Lost,
in the manner
of middle aged men.
Insistent he's right on things,
regardless,
without shame.
Pressing,
always pressing
the issue.
Yet I love him,
the stubborn thing,
the older brother thing.
He saved me once,
from an older man
at the Emerald Bar.
Stood up for me,
took the character down to the floor,
and sneered when the cops took the guy away.
The man had reached for me,
touched my breast, shot a stench
of liquor, his bald head gleaming.
"Never again," Glenn had said
as he drove us the long slow route home.
"Nobody gets in here. Nobody messes with mine."
