“May I call?”

He slumped on the treadmill
and fell with a thud,
Just as the scene froze
on his Peloton hud
His Apple had already
checked-up on his pulse
It called 911 and said
his heart was now dud

He was a woke bloke
always on diet coke
The fear for his health
was now no more a joke,
The grave doc he poked
with inquisitive probes
The machines saw plainly
his arteries choked

"Good news!" the doc chuckled
fixing the drip-flow,
"Your life-stream is blocked but
your options not closed!
A hole here, a stent there
and a bagful of pills
Should keep you up
just keep paying them bills"

The folks at insurance
Helped half his bill skim
"Siri, play BeeGees"
he said on a wild whim
On came some track that
was almost a scream
He remembered his Tesla
was still parked at his gym

"We’ve put in titanium
to hold up your walls
Seems like you’re all set
for those conference calls"
Back at his high-rise
his Uber ride stalled
"Five stars and a tip please"
the driver dude drawled

"Self-made", "Achiever"
"North Star of the year!"
Trophies like epitaphs
on Times that were dear,
Alone in his spartan
white well-furnished flat,
He pondered if he could’ve
done better than that?

He reached for the pic,
buried deep in his purse
Two faces smiling back
in a cool carefree pose
"Come with me, please"
he could still hear her voice
"Lets travel the world
discover its joys!"

The last week in college
outside the dance hall,
He’d left her hand, beckoned
by the good 'ol career thrall
Ten years had passed since
they’d crossed its four walls,
He searched up her number
and typed: "May I call?"

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