He has I-could-break-your-neck shoulders.
He’s carrying coffee shop trays covered
in teapots, cups and saucers
with one hand in his skinny jeans pocket.
He knows what I want to order
and gets to prepping before I ask for it.
His chest is out. His chin is out.
He seems ready to take a punch
and I believe he’d take one for the two of us.
© Carl Burkitt 2022