Two men, both having recently used “Just for Men Touch of Grey”,
Stood waiting for their valet-parked cars,
Making idle conversation,
When a boy- no, he was a man I suppose,
Floated by
Like a cracked brown leaf
Buffeted on cold wind
Down the sidewalk and around the corner,
His brow crumpled and knotted
Dull eyed and rattling.
A blue wool coat, only just barely too big
Hung on his shoulders.
“What do you make of that man,
Well fed and dressed,
Looking like a kicked dog?”
Asked the first man
“Why don't you ask him yourself?”
Replied the second,
Both checking their watches
And quickly searching the lot for
Their oncoming cars,
Fishing in their pockets for
An extra little something
To give the valets.