“dirty old man”

a poem dedicated to local photographer, story teller and poet Rick Hokans

he has hoarded years
piles and piles of old men’s names
litter his memory
like newspapers stacked in the hallways
a fire hazard
kindling
violet auburn yesterdays
billowing away
the years  of  cobwebs
the finger print tattoo of past lovers
muddy the looking glass
through this cloudy reflection
if you were to stare at the correct angle
the reminiscent similitude
to the uniformed promenading adolescence
seems distant fleeting
survived battles, shrapnel & machine gun shell casing
filthy the parlor
crowded between boxes of his grandchildren’s new eyes
milk crates of young pretty girls kisses everywhere
the furniture stinks of stories
over run with the corroding antiquity of years
the chaos of cluttered clusters of words
the charcoal splendor of bygone remembrance
stains the hard wood
you keeper of stories
the winter of your days
are now upon you
the time has come
for spring cleaning
sweep, order and distribute
these tales
unpacking the allegories
of a careful life, well lived,
we sit in the sanitized edited
windowsill
listen to your stories
full of laughter and are reminded
to remain young and dream…

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