Metal tumbler—half filled,
Steaming aphrodisiacal;
Eerie stillness
At half past five.
Conventional brews:
One third robusta;
A third of chicory
Another third,
Depending which side of the street you live.
Coffee is religion.
Railway station huddle proclaims
God is alive and well
At half past two.
Top-tier coffee for the masses
In toughened glasses trained to
Take your bite.
Take your time.
A slogan says
Not your life—
You can bet on that.
The last batch of stainless
Steel tumblers
Have been spirited away,
The proprietor of a stall
Tells me,
From brass
To glass
To aluminium;
Degradation, clarified
His point—
Bourgeois porcelain
Does not carry through.
