Arthur

He's on a short smoke break standing

in an alley out back behind a McDonald's

when he see the milling homeless men

taking turns trying and failing to pull out

(is he sober?) a golden-handled sword

visible above the flaking dumpster's rim

and thinks: Let me try.

A smoker's cough keeps him up at night.

He'd look decades younger with dentures.

Sex, even solo, is a distant memory.

Perhaps here's  an opportunity to reset.

Doubtful at first, he finds resolve

as he clambers atop the piled garbage

and grips the strangely gleaming hilt.

As he draws the sword up and out,

the circling men all bowed and kneeling,

he knows somehow he has finally found

a role he'd like to fill.