He looks old
Like newspapers on the lawn
That have turned yellow
From age and neglect
He sits in the afternoon heat
On his porch
Sweating
Like condensation collects
On a beer bottle
He smokes Pall Malls
And throws them into the street
After they have become midgets
Before he reaches for another
His wife died five years ago
His children have moved away
He lives a solitary life
His life ended long ago
Yet he breathes, and eats
He shits when he needs to
He wakes every morning
For no other reason than habit
