in the seventh grade who would go
around
poking his wet finger into
everyone's dessert
that sat on our tray.
he'd lick his finger, then say,
are you going to eat that.
i ran into him
the other day
at the bank, he was pouring
pennies
into the change machine,
and was the size of a human
Hindenburg.
he remembered me,
and waved.
i said, hey.
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