he seemed to be
as perfectly unremarkable
as damn near
any of the bastards
that walked around
with chests puffed out
in one size
too small shirt
to accentuate
the slow drift
from youthful muscle
to middle age paunch
the spiked up hair
that sought to
misdirect
from the thinning
with inarticulate
gesticulations
frozen in hair gel
a petrified forest
in a barren land
a cemetery
one of a million
just like him
ten million
hell
maybe more
one train of thought
straight to the beer aisle
to get a twelver
so the new numbed nature
of this rigormorale
of life moving
just half a step faster
than he can muster
as the luster
waned
like the sun setting
over the mountains
on which
he never quite found
a summit