Age

That old man over there in the flat cap,

he was once a David,

based on the classical Adonis archetype

massive hands,

Small cock, tucked up in its marble pubes,

fixed expression,

now he’s got half the pub at his feet, its that

kind of place

and the din from the jukey isn't quite enough

to muffle

the sound of his old heart, cranking like

a knackered mower,

the blades don’t cut the grass as much

as fold it.

But mock him at your peril young thick beard

he’s waiting

somewhere in a mirror for you, ready with his

huge hands.