Fixing stuff

10 inches left on my new

   bike tire

My thumbs rubbed red and

   raw as radishes

Tools and bike parts distributed

   haphazard across my living room

   floor like a scene

   of my earnestness and failing

And that old miserable thought …

   Where is the man?

   I need a man

   I do not need a man

   I need a …

10 inches left on my new bicycle tire

A chocolate break

It’s important not to rush these things—

—these fixing things—

   to approach each relentless

   tug, each wrist tweak and gadget pull

   with the same 100 percent

   of muscle and contortion

Maybe if I stand like this

and put my whole body into it

Or if I shut my eyes and focus on

the sheer sensation of my hands wrapped around…

   is it 9 inches now?

Or if I lay down close

to where the rubber meets

the steel

Maybe then I can convince

what’s stiff to be pliant

what’s hard to give me a freakin’ break

and turn this stubborn task into something that’s actually possible to get done, like, today?

I always did play with dolls too much

But maybe what this bike tire needs

is a woman’s touch

Or better tools

A little TLC on the radio

More chocolate?

Another try