Waiting for the white pigeon--
Suddenly you're the old man
In the corner booth
The type you looked at
When you were young
The world is tilting
You're dizzy when you punch
Fear of fear
Despairing at despair
Ensnared in the black magic
Of the mind
Shocked at seeing how deep it goes
Like the face of Michelangelo's
Doomed man
Stunned with one hand covering an eye
Betokening the abyss
Then seeing your face in the mirror
Of the corner booth
Recoiling, praying,
Alone, waiting for the bird
To descend