I served my regulars
Dean the electrician and Dan the
Man who had the bags of groceries set
Out when I went down to his end
Of the great open space, the lot
Everyone with lights at night
Motors of diesel and gas, high test
No espresso, just plywood countertops
I never got it at all anyway
Coffee is .05 the Baker told me, flipping
The giant horse faced mixing bat.
So here I am.
After work, sunny fresh cups and
Oh, I didn’t bring a book but I have the
colored glass of which one is decaf red.
I see myself in the line.
It’s not compression, it equalizes.
I’m out there too.
Captured in warm florescent.