Old one, who gave you the wrinkles on your big ass forehead? Time etches its stains in the lines on your face, and I can see it furrowed in your brows as you berate the youth. I didn't do this to you.
Don't bite me, old one, you've gone through the wash of circumstance. Is it better that you have forgotten time? Is it better that you don't remember my face? Perhaps it is a blessing not to remember the blood and the bombs and the men drowning under the hull of the Arizona you could never save.
I went to see the Arizona. Did I ever tell you that, before you lost your mind? I went to that place and saw the hull of the ship sticking out of the mud, under the platform down at Pearl.
I wish I could proffer something other than this. But I will catch my own sunset someday, and I will meet you there when that happens.
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