I ordered double expresso to go
As I waited quietly by the door.
The person next to me had herbal tea
And picked it up quite impersonally.
I had stopped for cigarettes on the way
And now I lit one and purused the floor.
The pastries that were on display
Held no substance, not unlike my day.
The clock on the wall said quarter past four.
Conversations mingled and were diffused.
Shirts were required, but none were refused
For this coffee shop was still a haven.
I attempted to focus my attention
But the Rasta music scattered my thoughts.
The late afternoon still held potential
As choices now seemed inconsequential.
And though I had passed on latte with skim
The expresso held no empty calories
While the taste of morning held no memories.
So, with coffee in hand I turned to leave
While I heard those words for here or to go.
I wondered why most the day had been lost,
For, like the coffee, I had paid the cost.