Thumb Print

I spy the NY Times in line for coffee, early.
I pick it up.
I’m with the workers — people getting out of trucks,
gal checking her phone already,
A man waves from the car, making “get me a big coffee” hand motions,
She nods,
Nervous eyes, jittering knee-caps, low energy.
Dude next to me asks,
“Why read the paper man, can’t you see how f-cked up people are?”
“People is us, I don’t know about people in general”, I say,
looking down at printed chaos, and his left shoe.
Man shakes his head, jerks his big bruised thumb at me and says,
“What are you Christian, Buddhist…some spirit-ual kinda shit, what”?
I say to the man,
“No I’m human, how about you?”
Man shakes head, put his abrasive thumb back in his jacket.
“Double espresso, per favore.”
Another day.

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