When I was young,
I wanted to be Claude Rains,
unwrapping and slipping,
ghost-like out the door,
past Gloria Grahame’s
outstretched arms,
into the night,
and adventures new,
beyond the grip of mundanity.
This morning I stepped,
before ‘Don’t Walk’ expired,
said “Oops, Sorry!” to no one,
in particular,
but a young lady standing beside me,
waiting for the light just snorted,
and gave me that ‘stupid old man’ look.
Being The Invisible Man has advantages,
but only in the movies,
and even Claude Rains dies – in the end,
Like every ‘stupid old Invisible man’
ml’24
(and yes, I do have a Claude Rains fedora… 🙂 )