I am becoming the guy
I used to dread standing behind
at the supermarket cash
the guy whose arthritic
fingers and swollen brain
couldn’t untangle the knots
of coins in his little change pouch
to fetch thirty-eight cents
while trying to flirt with
the gum-chewing cashier

I am also becoming one of
the grey-haired guys
who cuddle up to stare forever at
a closeup of the urinal wall
during intermission
while the knots in their groins
takes its own sweet time unraveling
in front of younger guys who
used to be me and could
tie their own quickly accessible
knots for the occasion

I am also one of the old
fools who can no longer
untangle the twisted map
of my brain in time to recall what’s next . . .