Thumbs

I have two thumbs. I’m glad I do.
I like my other fingers, too,
But thumbs are dactyl underdogs.
Pointers? Middles? Glory hogs.
The ring’s okay, the pinkie, sure,
But I still like ol’ Thumbkin more.

While fingers type, the thumb makes space.
It’s hardly ever in your face
The way a jabbing index is
When someone’s all up in your biz,
And when you just can’t zip your lip
Your thumb’s what lets you get a grip.

When Romans in the Coliseum
Saw thumbs-up, you’d want to be ’em;
Theirs might slip inside their mouth,
However, when they saw thumbs-south.
Who’s got two thumbs and likes ’em fine?
This guy! (And I’ve got plums on mine!)