The Senile Brigade Poem by Juan Olivarez
The Senile Brigade
I have become
A magnet.
For every teller
Of tall tales.
For every set
Of tired legs
Looking for shade
And a chair.
For every recipient
of a monthly allowance
From Uncle Sam.
For every old timing man
Smelling of cumin
And old spice.
For all the senile citizens
That seek
A little company
And a kind word
While shooting the breeze.
The senile brigade.
5/31/14
ALTON TEXAS
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/2/2024 2:33:28 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Glean all the wisdom you can (if there be any!) while they're around.