Old Man Sitting

The bones are brittle as are the thoughts they crumble events of yesterdays that never happened things that happened not remembered today becomes another time faces and events mingle become a crazy quilt He sits and stares unaware of a spreading map in his crotch that moves down his legs and becomes a puddle at his feet His hands dangle at his sides veiny gnarled twitching are they waiting for some message from that dead brain his pulse is almost an insult They say he feels no pain