on stopping by starbucks on a snowy evening

(with a biting hamster up my jersey)


whose café this is i think i know
his corporate headquarters is in seattle though
he will no see me stopping here
to watch his café fill up with proles

whose café this is
i haven't a clue
the place is full of teen yobs now
they will not mind me stopping here
as long as i don't catch their eye
or look at their girlfriends legs
or otherwise interfere
with their magnificent lives
of serious drugs and casual sex

my little hamster must think it queer
to stop without a hamster cage near
between the grocery store and the bookshop
                with the dudes where's my car counter assistants
the darkest evening of the year

he gives the spare tyre on my belly a nip
to remind me to leave the sexy russian waitress a tip
the only other sounds the shriek
i release  at the sight of my own blood

this waitress is lovely dark and deep
but I have promises to keep
and budgies to feed before i sleep
and budgies to feed before i sleep


*****
With apologies to Robert Frost. No really. I'm very sorry.