Old Cal Calhoun
Cal is old. He has never had another nickname because he
has always been older than everyone.
There is no one that can actually verify his age.
His glasses cause accidents, and mass ant burnings.
Cal has conversations with his knees and elbows.
He tells them to do things, but they don’t listen.
Cal’s memory is in black and white, and silent.
Cal used to rob banks in his heyday; and by heyday I mean
when banks were a chest at the foot of your bed.
In his most recent attempts, the police politely escort
him out the door before he can pull out his bow and arrow.