Littlecity
II.
young folks from outta town
with means [whatever that is]
bought a failing coffee shop
called it Café and started sellin’
organic lattes and chai and avocado toast
with bread from the bakery ran
out of a knothole kind of space
and lemon squares with drizzle
locals surprised to like such oddities
most days come drink plain dripped
black coffee and chew the fat
they order a fancy coffee and toast
to celebrate birthdays new jobs a baby
or whatever there is to cheer about
and to grieve together cause it’s easier
than grievin’ alone
Well done with this poem. I like how the words , "knothole kind of space..." hang together.
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