He accepts the coffee and smiles
his best I’m more than I seem smile
at ‘You’re Being Served By Eve’
who stares right past him, or maybe
right through him, at the queue
percolating out the door.
He’s loved her each lunch break,
in a year full of lunch breaks,
from his nobody place in line–
one more grey suit
in a nondescript forest
where he knows should he fall,
he will not make a sound.