War cry

He sits down
on his coffee shop chair
and the crack of his knees
propels itself out of his mouth.
It’s impossible not to turn around
and check he hasn’t just been
shot through the stomach.
He nods. Thumbs up.
The war cry of the elderly,
he says, raising his sausage wrap
to the ceiling like a pistol.

© Carl Burkitt 2022

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