You are not normally self-effacing.
Until you push past the carts.
In a black suit.
Against a dichotomous background.
On your way to the Cafe
To buy black coffee
Circumnavigating the aisles of Whole Foods,
Where you obviously don’t belong
At two in the afternoon
While there’s work to be done
At your desk;
Your glass office
Some ordinance to file.
Linear and finite
Braving a sea of amorphous,
Communal, leftist, hippies
Who brush past you with their flowered dresses
And canvas tote bags
And downplay their superiority,
Just so you can catch a glimpse
Of your girl’s smile.