An Elderly Man's Recollection of a Man..

An Elderly Man’s Recollection of a Man He Knew Who Happened to Be a Dinosaur
I knew a man who was a dinosaur,
A Ceratosaurus I believe,
Or perhaps he was a Camarasaurus,
He was of Jurassic origin,
Of that I am sure.
I recall having tea with him once,
In a small café in London,
He was going through a phase,
In which all he would want to discuss,
Were obscure 19th century Russian authors.
After taking his sips out of a wooden tea cup,
He would sigh,
As if he had to give me an auditory signal,
Stating that he indeed was enjoying the tea,
Then he would repeat,
“They just don’t make them like they used too”,
It’s at this time I would look at him and think the same.
Being a dinosaur he always felt a need to roam,
So he would take extended holidays to Asia,
“Just soaking in the culture,” as he said,
I always requested he bring back some sort of trinket for me,
Just a little knick-knack,
I didn’t actually want the trinket for any collectable purpose,
I just liked the idea that at one point in the trip,
He would stop for a second,
And have to think of what would please me,
I could always tell the items,
Which were purchased in the airport gift shop,
On the way home,
I could feel the lack of thought.
The memory that most sticks out,
To me,
Of this man I knew,
Who was a dinosaur,
Is of a day in June,
When he explained to me,
Of how he would never ride in an airplane,
But was always ready to take an aeroplane,
That just the simple spelling of a word,
Could change the whole nature of an item for him,
That somehow,
Airplane seemed like a heartless machine filled with strangers,
But an Aeroplane was home.