Humorless Bone

The doorframe didn't give an inch

when I swung the ice and beer.

I felt the sudden, electric flinch

and the coldness of the gear.

Now the skin is puckered gray

over the knob where it’s thinnest.

I can’t quite hold the pen today

or finish what I’ve witnessed.

It's a dull and thrumming heat

that radiates up to the shoulder.

A reminder that even the street

gets harder as I get older.