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Yippie Kai Yay!

It was my maiden voyage as a walker
in the Tucson Mall.  My fairly-new 
titanium hip joint survived the trip
without a creak or complaint.  
It was what I used to call my muscles 
that frayed from the unaccustomed tedium.

 After walking, I found the Burger King
in the Food Court, open especially 
for morning shufflers like me
and asked for a cup of coffee.

 "Twenty-seven cents!", she said.
"Twenty-seven cents?", I echoed.

 I dug deep, 
hauling up a fistful of coins,
and left them all.

 The Tucson Mall is large,
but unlike the Mall of America in Minnesota
where I winter-walked, 
which is a rectangular heap, 
the Tucson Mall is an octopus
shaking hands with itself, randomly.  

 My phone, which knows nothing
about freeway access roads, 
said I was sixteen minutes from home,
but it took twice that to get to the Mall,
having to cross under I-10.  

 A small bird had discovered that
Food Court crumbs are her only chance.

 The surgeon who replaced my hip
treated my bones with respect,
but he sent my stringy old muscles
through a meat grinder.  
It is mine to line up the lean nuggets
and train them to walk together. 

 "Mush!" I called out to them.  "Mush!"

 Mush they are, but I am dogged.  
"Git along, little dogies!  Git along!"

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