R.J. Zeman

R.J. Zeman

Shadow boxer

 

I walk down

the street,

with a cigarette

dangling

from my mouth.

I see an

old drunk

standing

in front of a bar.

His skin

is wrinkled,

his hair

is short and grey.

He is talking

to himself

as he shadow boxes

with the air.

“Motherfucker,”

he mumbles

to himself,

“bring it on,

motherfucker.”

His white t-shirt

is stained

and ragged.

His fists

move back

and forth

in little bursts.

I walk past him

and nod

my head;

he stops

for a second

and nods back.

I keep walking,

cigarette

in my mouth,

leaving him behind

with his beer

and his

ghosts.

 

R.J. Zeman is a poet from Dunedin, Florida. More of his work can be found at www.robertzeman.blogspot.com