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Click herethe colonel always comes in late
after the crush of the noontime rush…
crowds and noise make him nervous…
hes a pleasant enough white-haired man
repeating the routines he remembers
its obvious hes afflicted
to everybody but himself
as he sits down alone and
orders a hamburger and a beer
before he begins to disappear
his hands just cant stand still
fluttering around the mug like birds
flittering in his nervous grasp
whirling restless fingers always
on the verge of a flying escape
snatches of confused conversation
a mad looping commissioned monologue
forever lost in the same losing battle
wormed into his senile brain
an argument that can never be won.