As I walk past your favorite coffee shop,
I look and see if you’re there.
Hoping that our eyes would meet again...
I fell in love in the frame of a window.
You looked at me and then turned the corner,
and then the next,
and then you were gone.
Trapped behind the register, I make prolonged and meaningful eye contact with a stranger outside.
I sit here in a coffee shop
Staring at the empty seat across,
Imagining it’s you facing me,
Smiling big and talking deep.
I just enjoy staring at you,
Dancing in the air of confidence and sweet love.
Never been easier getting myself lost in those eyes
**** those eyes do speak, no lies.
Noticing me, you asked what happened
I would just smile and give you a kiss
I wonder what you would do
Would you smile me back or pinch me in my arm?
With a huge shock, I woke up, my head on fumes
I hate this waitress destroying my moment with you
I make sure, I gave her no tip
Well just a dry smile instead.
She’s cute but I am not interested
For I already have you.
Thank you God, I am a lucky guy
Blessed with an angel, a real one by my side.
Two strangers sit across from each other.
They are nameless and beautiful.
The aluminum chairs are cold but never as cold as her composure and the coffee is warm but could never match the fire that dances behind his eyes as though it is a ballerina being forced to dance to the quiet music fading in and out.
The date is a business meeting, the desolate coffee shop a board room, and the barista a moderator to say "get a room" or "take it outside" depending on how it goes.
I think I like clinical and distant snapshots of other people's lives. It makes me feel more real.
first day of spring
The world may start to come alive
Before in coffee shops viewed the world as gray
Now we hear the birds sing, wedding bells ring, queen bees that sting,
Shaking off winter chills and enter springtime blues
Here comes the sun
The hills with vivid colors and lovebugs and crazy daisies
Kids running crazy
Screaming, water guns
The weather becomes lazy
And starts looking hazy
sunken in couches at coffee shops
have been loved too much
by too many
cushions gone lumpy
legs that can no longer support weight
coffee stains that will never come out
though there’s been many that have loved it
there hasn’t been one that has loved it enough
the hum of voices in the coffee shop
is actually pretty comforting
even though I don’t know the stories or the how the voices sound when they’re angry,
there’s a conspiracy with the sound and my ears that make me feel at home
Blinking over plastic frames
She had music in her ears.
Nursing a steamy Costa Rica,
She was scrawling words in margins.
Flashing her vanilla gloss smile,
She then spoke to you so wistfully
In her very own acid-washed prose.
And though they had an imitated style,
You gladly drank them up with a black Puerto Rico
For she said she wrote that one for you.
the day starts with shirley
who comes in just after eight
for her 20oz chai
"what kind of milk?"
punches her own coffee card
tells me about her puppy
kayla is next her hair and
makeup always perfect
about as nice a landlady as
one can have in a town like this
from there it's a constant
stream of people
who i watch out for and
who don't know i'm doing it
janice lives alone and thinks
people are stealing her money
the tests her doctors want
she can't remember
what she always orders
it's a turkey club sandwich no bacon
on toasted oatmeal regular chips no pickle
a to go box for the leftovers
and some kind of chocolate treat in a bag
because she only eats when
she comes in here
two weeks ago
i accidentally switched
barb's 12oz soy chai
with someone else's
12oz whole milk chai
it wasn't enough dairy
to give her a problem
in fact she didn't seem
to remember it
but i made her another for free
nic stopped for his afternoon coffee
didn't laugh at anything just stared
blankly into space and said he
thought he was getting sick
had too many things to finish
the day before when i was waving
to him from the parking lot
so i took my dog to the
back door of his office and
we barked until he came out
patted us both on the head
and said he felt better
we're all creatures of habit
like mckenna who arrives
between one thirty and two
tuesday through saturday
leans on my bake case while
i count my tips and add random
ingredients to different drinks
in a reckless attempt
to break up the monotony
and he drinks them all
no matter how bad they are
rita doesn't smile since she broke her hip
in fact i haven't seen her since
walt got sick and he and joan
moved upstate to be closer to their son
i worry about something happening to ray
who will take care of rita?
whose laugh used to echo off the walls
and fill the place up
pat's smoking again and it turns out
he has congenital heart failure
gail had a fall, a ****** and
i make the same dumb jokes
only a few people smile at
i sing to myself
and people point it out
karen sits in her motorized wheelchair
ice and snow dripping from the wheels
onto the scratched, muddy floor
and tells me i'm pretty and funny
and have a beautiful voice and
i look at karen, her head tilted to
the side and spit hanging from her
buck teeth and wonder why such a
wonderful funny girl with a heart of gold
had to have the body she's stuck in
why life is ****
and why i'm trying
i swear i'm trying
i don't know what
why we fight
why we try
to make the world
a better place
when nothing can really change
any of these dismal facts
copyright 4/6/18 b. e. mccomb
A cup of coffee
Sun rays through