He’s still there

He’s still there you know,
Waiting for the women to come out and cut up what remains.
He’s still there you know,
I watched as he filled the electric kettle all precise,
slamming down the lid
Like some durable black top cover of a smoothed feed tray.
He might act normal most of the time but,
He’s still there you know,
I watched him in the pub the other night,
Interacting with civilians,
Mid tour leave & happy almost with being on the skive.
But still wishing his pool cue as he twirled it
Would turn into his L-85.