See You Next Year
Doc says I should eat better,
exercise more. I know.
I know.
He asks if I remember
what we talked about
last time.
I scour my crusted memory
but these wellness visits blur
together like a field of pinwheels
in a lightning storm.
I suppose I could drink
a little less, leave the bar
before my Honda carriage
turns back into a pumpkin
but why would I want to outlive
my doctor?
We have a nice arrangement—
I visit every October,
listen to his lecture,
feign concern at numbers—
some too high, some too low,
shake hands after he’s wiped
away the Vaseline.
See you next year.
About Bartholomew Barker
Bartholomew Barker is an organizer of Living Poetry, a collection of poets in the Triangle region of North Carolina where he has hosted a monthly feedback workshop for more than decade. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2021. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he lives and writes poetry.
This one makes me laugh every time I read it. :)
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Good. Thanks for helping craft it in our workshop.
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Thanks for the er… um… mental imagery. LOL ;)
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You’re very welcome.
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