HOLDING UP THE LINE

HOLDING UP THE LINE

Barista, barista, if only you knew
what I’d like to order from you

Barista, barista
please, if you please
cold coffee in a Mason jar
like Momma sent to the fields
at harvest and at haying time

That much sugar
and that much cream
and no one wiped the lip
when they passed it round

Barista, barista
there’s nothing I see
on that long fancy menu for me

I guess
I just came in to smell the coffee