- Jimmy Broccoli
If I Only Had A Limp
As I walk down Broad Street, on this unusually sunny day,
in my peripheral vision, I see a middle-aged woman with a mid-level limp
She uses no cane, but she’s visibly limping
I have a speech-impediment, so I pause, while standing on the sidewalk
And look in her direction
She’s not exactly pretty, but she’s okay –
and I know I’m not exactly handsome
I want to talk to her -
I’ve spent many a day and many an evening alone
She looks in my direction – and she’s slightly better looking than my original observation
I speak with my normal lisp – “Good Afternoon, kind mam, it certainly is lovely weather we are having today”
She stands still, kind of lopsided
And I ask if she’d like to join me for a glass of champagne (?)
Two glasses, so she can have one of her own –
And she agrees
As we progress down the level-grounded sidewalk together, I introduce myself
“You have a limp” I tell her, and she nods her head
“You sound like Sylvester, the Cat”, she tells me
While on the walk to the pub, I purposely kick a fire hydrant
My foot is in pain, perhaps bleeding beneath the cotton sock I’m wearing
“Are you okay” (?), she asks, with mid-level concern
“I thought I might acquire a limp”, I tell her
And she nods her head
“That would be lovely”, she observes – “perhaps you would stutter less frequently” – and I shake my head in agreement
Throughout my years, I’ve read many definitions of love –
And I suspect, I might be in love with this woman with the limp
It’s quite pronounced, but she doesn’t need the assistance of a cane
And I think this fact is fantastic
We sit side-by-side on barstools at the pub
And I purposely throw my right leg into the metal footstool below
“Do you have a limp yet” (?), she asks
And I reply, “I don’t think so”.
“Perhaps next time”, she observes
While sipping on her diet Coke
Photo: Jimmy Broccoli on the front steps of the (physical) Vegetable Tray.
