"A few rounds on my tab" - M Bromberg

Charlie at The Globe

"A few rounds on my tab" - M Bromberg

Leukemia, cancer,
platelet counts:
we called you Dracula.
After each infusion
you were alive like no other.

You offered me a ride
to Watkinsville, a 12-pack,
and Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Gimme
Three Steps" turned up
so loud the windows would shake.

I found your name and number
in my wallet,
scrawled on a napkin.
"I'm 75," you laughed,
"don't wait too long."

I should have called.
You had the stroke
Monday in the doctor's office,
never regained consciousness.
When I saw you

at the hospital Wednesday,
sleeping, I grabbed
your arm. "C'mon, Charlie.
Wake up!
Let's go get a beer."

I hope you're putting
a few rounds on my tab.

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