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Our Protector... by Matt Alton

Drawing of old man, drawing of old man with coffee cup
Our Protector

Great big ugly scarred man

All grizzled and grey

Forgetful and coming apart

Never focused anymore

Gaze a bit too off in the distance

Body odor and flatulence

Without enough sense to be embarrassed

At his own ugliness and stench

Some said that he was Icarus

Still falling

Others thought he might be

Odysseus just starting his journey

And maybe that was why he was so strong

He had oars to pull and swords to swing

And nothing to come back to

But the reason we fed him

And left him to his sloth and his vices

Was that he was a nice man with

Old world manners

Feel special when he held the door

Or when he pretended not to notice

When you took the big  piece

But more than that

And it was genuine

He would take up for the weak

And the old and the desperate

He would come at once with all

Of that terrible wrath if he

Saw his sheep being troubled

By another dog

The terrified flock would see him

Shaking the dead enemy by his neck

Against a background of flames

But he would end it as quickly

As possible

Kill and re-kill and move on

But then his stinky self would be

Right there with the little ones

Rubbing their heads

Looking in their eyes, and smiling

Explaining how everything was okay

Even though he knew it was

A damned lie

And that he was a damned liar

Then he would go back to sleep

Among the donkeys

Waiting for the dogs

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