My friend, in a café talking
as my legs walk away from me
one leg at a time
escaping our table
sucking at the knees
of a couple
looking at me suspiciously
from a table paused
the staff ask, am I ok
just a touch of Parkinson’s
oh, they say
as I collect my legs
my friend taps my shoulder
comfortingly
who cares what they think
don’t worry
my friend keeps talking
I enjoy her every word
but my own words cannot be
while I must tether my leg animals
I can no longer
multitask
the staff would like to pat my leg animals
I think
they form an observation group
I’m about to ask if they have questions
when they set up a heater
below my knees
bring a blanket
do I need anything else
as we leave
my words bloat and bob
at my surface
burping rudely
I don’t get to say thank you
my friend smiles and my leg animals wave
the staff say
see you next time
your blanket will be here
for you