A T-shirt
That says
I’m OK
The meals he
prepares
Are delicious,
ample
And a quarter the
price
Of Midtown cafes
that pony up
The Trumpist lease
money
To keep their
doers open.
Still, I’ve yet to
see a line
Form behind me
when
He is busy with
fixing
The chicken tikka:
ripe tomato slice,
Fresh salad
greens, cucumber
Slab, generous
slather of homemade relish,
White sauce,
squirt-ropes of hot sauce.
I like your
T-shirt, I say.
Thank you, he says
with an
Open smile. Then a
blessing in Arabic,
In his business,
which is neither popular nor original,
He thanks God
every day.
People live on the
street, he says.
When I see them
like that how can I
Not thank God for what
I have?
Then he utters a
second Arabic blessing
Before we exchange
honest wishes
That the other has
a great day.
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