They make the world go round.
The tap tap
of falling beans
(or pieces falling into place?)
dreams and discourse animate/
the faces of the young and ready-
wired on caffeine and their dreams;
shots of straight phil-os-o-phy
into open minds
where things that weren’t now come to be.
to you or I
a blemish on the highstreet’s face;
like thick, sweet milk
a dilution of our time, this space.
but look beyond the vapid chatter,
the scrumpled wrappers
and greasy plates;
here is a home for rumination,
epiphanies and small debates.
Thoughts flourish / Words fly /
Notions flicker, burst and die;
perception is reborn-
And the coffee flows on.