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Holy Man at the supermarket cash register
punching numbers feeling blessed.
A label on the front of his stocking hat says,
“blessed like you are.”
And he has the smile and the friendliness
to back it up.
“How’re you doing?” he asks.
I’m exhausted and cranky and depressed,
“Doing real good,” I say, “How are you doing?”

“Blessed. We all are. You know. Just trying to
keep it real. Stay focused.”

“That’s great,” I say, “Not always easy to do.”

“You can do it,” he says.

And I wouldn’t mind talking to him some more,
but my habit, my robot, my machine is used
to laughing a short, friendly laugh and
walking away, so I laugh a short, friendly
laugh and walk away, thinking
it really does take a holy man
to stay energetic and positive and
blessed
in such a store on such a day
behind a register.

Or–I would need to evolve
and lighten up considerably to
have his attitude.
I used to think people like him
were out of their minds,
deluded and crazy and dumb.
But now, I think I’m the one who’s crazy.
Guys like that,
they’re right on.
Rather be like him these days
than any kind of rock star or
movie star
if you can believe that.

dj. 2010. whole foods north store
(david jewell is a poet of some renown currently living a subverbal life)

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