toilet paper stuck to this man's shoe
was a white flag of surrender
and i felt his pain
his desperation
the longing wrinkles
on his tired face

he ran that flag as a hero does
unintentionally, just doing his job
warning the unprepared single women
that the plague of old age
and senile cynicism
is only one bathroom trip away

i will be that man one day
walking back to my table
with a disappointed grin
breathing an out-of-shape hymn
for the class of withering perverts and dogs
that linger at the edges
of passion and nap-time