A Brief, Protracted Reflection

Old man sits,

Thinks of the Cats:
Catacombs,
   Cataracts
      Catheters;

Reloads magazines
In sensual forest folds,
Sweat and flecks of dirt
Like mosquitoes make him
Speckle-faced
And breakwater cold;

Skips rocks on lapping ponds
Where girls soreneck beautiful
Wear seaweed garlands
As gentle rivers slither down
Brownoiled breasts;

Makes screaming, frantic love
By neon light reflected in
Vinyl (plainview) wallet,
Some tanlined wellworn
Bouncing heavy on his lap
Under groping (ringless) hands;

Dodges rice and kisses a bride
Before a tin can symphony;

Passes out cigars for an
Itsaboy job well done;

Christophers over a threshold;

Loves and fights and retires;

And dies.