(Now, I don’t ever write poetry because I know I am terrible at it. But this accidentally came into being at 1:00am or so, several moons ago, and I didn’t hate it completely.

As usual, I must thank Thang for editing and beta testing and whatever.

Also, I performed this at an open mic earlier today, and my absolute fav prof said it was good so VALIDATION YAS)

coffee at Starbucks

how do i explain to the Starbucks barista that i want the Mocha with less sugar and more chocolate because i feel dead inside

how do i explain to them that if i don’t get the coffee just the way i want on the first try i won’t go back and change it because i am too scared to explain why

and if i don’t get that coffee i’ll go to the bar around the corner
have a beer
or wine
or a margarita
or five

i went to the bar anyway
and between the drinks i met someone

we talked about death and dying and hopelessness of existence and the uselessness of life

and at the end of the day we didn’t kill our selves although it is what we wanted

instead we got coffee
at Starbucks