seven

seven turns a corner, as morning wakes again
"time to get up and earn your keep" says the watcher of all men
so seven splits the alley and turns to head uptown
he moves with quick precision, though the world sees him a clown
past civic center, curving market, seven walks his path with ease
he moves on by the castro as the flags wave in the breeze
he walks now through the mission, and knows he's nearly there
then passes 19th avenue, moving without care
he breezes through a doorway, and takes his place in line
then moves up as the people disperse and then recline
at last he's at the counter, the man says "yes, señor?"
he smiles and holds his hand up "i'll have the number four"
the man he nods at seven, and then begins to work
and then two minutes later he serves him without irk
he slides a warm plate over, across the counter top
and seven takes it from him as he pays the man called "pop"
and now he finds a table, near the window looks outside
and seven is in heaven as he now completes his ride.