I journey
through a day
past people I should know
people who are important for their unimportance
a gringo
sitting in a laundromat
with a clickety white laptop
revising a lecture for a class on ethics
he knows a lot
but not about life
clickety-clackity-clunk
the one who doesn’t belong in this place
the TV
blares happy talk
who wants to be a millionaire?
a stupid question at 88 decibels
the mom
comes with her kids
racing past the wire wheeled baskets
exuding energy and optimism; life itself
grandma
comes along too
I think she should get some rest
but following this tribe must be more interesting
the friendly man
pleased with the lack of crowds
I want to hear more about his life
but to sound clinical is worse than being detached
mi amigo
works the tandoor next door
cheerfully turning out crunchy naan
with a straight middle finger, badly broken long ago
I should stay
but I need to get back
back to hurry, and work; back to my life
but first, I need to find a cash machine and wi-fi
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Yo … dat’s lookin’ like sumpin for open mike time. You betta be careful wid all dat poetry writin’…