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An elderly man,

bulbous nose and belly 

in mismatched sweats--

absent of drawstring 

or any form of elasticity

to benefit his pride--

showed his wrinkly ass to most of 

Penn Station.

Hobbled along, 

a folder of x-rays in his hands

and a walker-type cane in the other--

4-pronged like the clawed feet

of the furniture at my grandma's.

Everything about this man said "Help."

A hand down the stairs, 

a finger gesturing the direction to the elevator

instead,

or an extra arm to hold his x-rays

while he pulled up his pants.

More attention, rather, was paid

to the homeless man

who scurried around the station like a rat.

He, however, was looking

for his left shoe.