Old And In The Way
Old and in the way. That’s what I heard them say. And I walked to my old apartment by the expressway and found now in back a pond now with a glass bridge. My water just touched. I went inside it was a bar. They were all young, the tables were empty. One by one they came in. The place wasn’t mine anymore. I went up to one guy with a painting maybe to start up a conversation about what he had at the bar. I may have revealed it and it turned out to be oeuvre derives on a tray. And he was Gay! And I was in the way. So then I think I said something unkind and every head turned. And a new place I had to find because they wanted me gone. I ended up then on the stairs with a black Lab coming y. But it wasn’t mine. Mine was a poor old thing that some had . . . a dog perhaps . . . had licked his head and left him. I put there my arms around him on the stairs and protected him. And then, of course, the battle ensued and I had the choice of places to ‘uh’ be. One a castle where they stored things. Except the door was on the wrong side. A Blarney castle. And then, of course, another fort. And one by one they were assaulted by young people. And I was driven back. Driven away! Because I was old! Old and in the way. That’s what they all say and had to say. And I was just old and in the way.
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