239 or Travel (rough)

It’s a clean slate.
His son with dirty hands swiped away the new.
He wrote his name in spirals,
big elementary letters.
The boy’s father works at a cafe near the river.
Tables and three fans sit along the patio.
The heat causes the patrons to cool themselves
with their menus.
The son visits and sits on a wooden chair near
the kitchen.
His father with a white apron passes and
tussles his brown hair.
And so it goes every Thursday when the boy’s
mother drops him off.
The cafe puts away the tables after nine
and opens up a bar on the patio.
The tourists order Mexican beer.