At a Starbucks
Because they’re really all the same
Pausing to take sips,
Spooning straw mountains
Of whipped cream from the cup I asked for
He didn’t fill it all the way
Because whipped cream is a valuable commodity
And I don’t think he liked me that much
Starbucks is the kind of place where you can write a poem with pauses
To drink your nitro
Sip your whipped cream straw
Our cashier was nervous
And had pink hair