in the park, older men,
unshaven
men
in long coats,
with socks
that don't match.
buttons
off,
zippers broken.
they don't care anymore
about what
colors they
wear.
or even if it's clean.
they leave the house
and go.
with no one to straighten
their collars,
brush the lint off their
shoulders,
there is no one
to uncuff
their sleeves,
they are pigeons
in the park
on benches, happily alone.
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