When did it get okay

When did it get okay

For the doctor to ask

“Are you constipated?”

Just like that

Without preamble

How rude

Iron tablets are one thing

Anybody can have a deficiency

It can be malabsorption

Probably caused by the medication

I’ve been taking

To keep from throwing up liquor

Although as far as the doctor

Is concerned it is about food.

The fact I can get to his surgery

Under my own steam

Walk six miles along the way

As well as stay a couple of steps ahead

Of the need to keep a dog

For the company

Should answer his question

About activity levels,

Without the need for a personality test.

My daughter says I am a cat person

It must be the independent streak

Or the retractable claws.

The doctor looks like he needs the exercise

More than I do

Perhaps I should have asked him

About his toilet habits.

Sometimes when it is difficult

To get out of bed

Before the need to move my bowels

Forces the issue,

I can imagine the weight

Of a cat on my chest

Purring,

Waiting for me to die

So it can inherit the pillow.

It is a big responsibility

Looking after a pet.

Sometimes, lying on the floor

Looking up at the ceiling

I am aware of the irony

In that sentence

But then again

If I had a dog it would lick my face

And sniff my crotch,

Which is a sure-fire way

To get me up and onto my feet.