TOMSIN LAUGHS ALONE.

A MAN AGING.

Tomsin laughs to himself. Not concerning
Others or with others, but alone, a private
Joke, not shared. He looks about him, none
Seems to have heard him laugh or if they did,
Cared. He puts out his legs beneath the table,
Lights up a cigarette. The small cafe seems busy,
Voices talk, bits of conversation hang on the air
Incomplete, foreign. He sips his drink. A girl in
A group nearby looks at him and smiles. He feels
His age, aches and pains remind him. He returns
Her smile; looks out to the sea, the warm summer
Evening coming in on the waves’ back. He holds
The cigarette between his fingers, browning his
Skin, burning flesh unpainfully. He looks back at
The girl in the group. She has long hair and bright
Eyes, fine figure and slim thighs. Look no longer,
Old man, he tells himself within, there lays the well
Walked road to ruin and age old sin. He looks away,
Sips his drink, watches the moon’s glow, the sea’s
Soft sound. He’ll take his image of her back with him
To his dingy room with his books, booze, bed, table
And chair and silently in his mind, embrace her there.