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Aug 2014
There is a Man down the street with a funny eye
He sits in front of his shop, hoping that I’ll walk by and buy
a diet pepsi
a bottled water
a bag of freaking chips
anything.

But I don’t buy from the Man with the funny eye
I don’t know why I don’t just stop in and
settle.
Thank God Sammy has his store just a little closer
just across the street
but it opens later
and
Thank God that the corner store is available
at all hours
but to get to it I need to walk by
the shop
His shop.

He doesn’t say anything
He just
Stares.
Or he doesn’t.
Sometimes he sits outside the shop
sipping coffee or smoking a cigarette
I hear He likes to break up fights, but He never starts them
He wants to teach me Arabic
and
I want to learn
but I avoid his shop all the same.

Sometimes I cut a zig-zag pattern across the street
from sidewalk to sidewalk
just to maneuver myself around the shop
of the Man with the funny eye
so that I can get to the corner store without walking by.
But I know He still sees me
at least some of the time
at least once.

I just know I’ve hurt Him
at least once.
I’ll walk into His shop
and
sit down and have a chat
buy a diet pepsi
a coffee
and a pack of cigarettes
A short poem I wrote about a shopkeeper I met on my street while living in Egypt
Written by
Ryan Klawitter  Cairo, Egypt
(Cairo, Egypt)   
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