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