Posted: April 27, 2010 in Uncategorized

The nice room is filled with the smell of coffee beans,

and people have to shout their crazy orders over the noise of the coffee grinders.

The glass case in the front holds many yummy breakfast treats,

a cinnamon scone,

a pound cake,

and many other things that glare at you from behind their shield of glass.

The place is hectic and out of order.

As always.

Somebody stands in the corner,

trying to open the top of their coffee,

but ends up spilling it all over themselves.

he curses repeatedly,

long and loud and echoing.

A woman sits hunched over a peice of cake,

munching as fast as she possibly can,

her blue eyes darting back and forth.

when she finishes,

she stands up and you can see the huge mess she made.

There are crumbs everywhere.

The floor,

Her chair,

and the table.

Almost like little hailstones.

Another woman comes in through the door and orders a frappachino,

cutting the line like she owns the place.

She wears a thick winter jacket with fur around the hood,

even though it is warm outside.

She wears sunglasses although it is dark and rainy and humid.

Somehow, her dark locks are not frizzing,

They are as straight as a board.

She is chewing an enormous wad of bubblegum,

it is so big she can barely speak around it.

As soon as she gets her frappachino,

she sits down and sticks her gum under the table,

mashing it there with all her strength.

A young couple sit in the window,

just in their teens.

One has a warm coffee,

and the other,

a large, gangly, pimply boy,

cannot drink a coffee because he is smoking a ciggarette,

even though he is only 16.

It dangles out of his mouth and he talks around it when he speaks to his girlfriend.

This is Starbucks,

No matter who comes in,

it will always be the same jumble of



and flat out odd people that you would see only at Starbucks

  1. Julian G. says:

    Desert Night

    The sun has set, last glimmer of light,
    day creatures shelter, yes, sleep they might,
    and the day sleepers waken to varying hues,
    of reds and yellows, purples, maybe blues.
    And the sleepers awake to darkening skies
    and the tired ones slumber to the chilling cries
    of the night creatures stirring

    Under cover of darkness, night creatures emerge,
    From their blanket of cold, out of burrows they surge,
    Climbing over a dune,
    under the orb of the moon,
    begin the hunts and searches, for the banquets and feasts;
    for the ravenous repasts of these wild beasts
    The creatures of the dark, cloaked in shadow and fear,
    using their smell and their ear,
    they scuttle and scurry,
    with hunger and hurry
    for the dark does not last, though it’s twelve hours past,
    from the start of dusk, time indeed goes fast.
    This time is filled
    with the night creatures feasting

    At the darkest hour, in the middle of the murk
    from the black in which they lurk,
    they emerge, causing quite a fright.
    And as they come out, they make quite a sight;
    Like a shadowy spectre,
    they need no protector
    Like ghosts of the gloom,
    rodents and rabbits meet their doom.
    As they await for prey to come…Hark!
    Their howls and growls pierce the dark.
    and in the pitch black, their eyes in the distance
    wolf chases rabbit, in long-lasting dance.
    And so these wolves:
    are night creatures hunting.

    As the evening hours tick on by,
    and the morning light creeps in, stealthy and sly
    And the creatures of the dark know; they sense the change
    they know it’s the end of their hours of strange
    and they know it’s the end to the hours of the night
    and so into their dens, they slink out of sight,
    as the day creatures waken;
    and the night creatures, their shadows taken,
    and yes, the night creatures sleeping.

    So the night creatures wait ‘til the hour of ten
    for the shadows of night, to rise yet again.

    Please note that at the moment, this is still a work in progress

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