“What’s the matter James?”

the Eurasian beauty asked,

“Not in  the mood?”

“It’s a delicate matter,” he replied.

wincing at the pain.

Too many dry martinis.

High-speed chases

in an  Aston-Martin

with a bad suspension.

An awkward leap

from a moving train in Bangladesh.

To be an aging action hero

was no picnic.

She looked at him

with her exotic olive eyes.

“Do you still love me James?”

“Not tonight, I’m afraid.”

He inserted each cufflink

carefully in place

and went back to the Casino

to try his luck at Baccarat

and see if he could spot

his bald Chinese nemesis,

hopefully as out of shape as he.

(originally published in Hobo Pancakes)