St. Thomas Handshake

Dudes under the sea grapes

rent out the wood umbrellas,

make cash on the tourist waves,

strong dudes, barefoot and chill

on their own island. 

I approach,

but reddit doesn’t explain how to ask. 

I pulled up wrong, dude says.

Still Dred walks me down the beach 

in front of a hundred faces.

Do you laugh at the sunburned Caucasians? 

I make him smile. A dub. I tip.

In St. Thomas I learned the handshake,

taught by Dred at his back edge of trees.

Peace, we say—and part ways.