a young man entered the coffee shop

he sported a tattoo around his ankle

an unseeming kind of tribal thing

                              but as white as he was  under a mop of illcut ashbrown colored hair

atop an unathletic gait

hed not be part of a self-respecting tribe any time soon

                                                                                                                if ever

he stumbled on the doormat inside the door

and the offense in his eyes

as his shades fell off the back of his head and broke on the tiled floor

by their glaring offense

the mat could have been a snake at ambush

he tried to recover 

                            but was strewn across the vestibule like the remains of a nosedived

airplane crash

I watched the imaginary snake crawl off smiling wickedly

flickering its forked tongue  as if licking a refreshing 3-scoop cone of colorful fruit sherbert

1440,  Wednesday,  12  6. 13