olive bread

the man who drops
your loaf
of thick crusted olive
bread
thinks that you
don't see him
when it slips out
of his gloved hands onto
the floor.
you see it roll
behind the counter,
his foot kicking
it even farther.
finally, picking
it up and sliding it
into a brown bag.
he hands it to you,
but you say no,
is it okay if I have
a loaf
that wasn't on the floor?
to which he says,
okay, without blinking,
then rings you up,
taking another loaf
from the rack.