Coffee wasn’t working
Cigarettes seemed stale
Everything was blasé
So I decided
On something different
Perhaps a cool refreshing drink
Slushy- full of goodness
Vitamins
Glistening health
Perhaps a glowing face
Full of hope and youth
To make it for me
The punk girls
At the Caffeine Corral
Pierced and tatted
Bitter and cold
So unlike their creations
Were better left behind
For the moment
The juice Joint
Across the street
Waved at me
With alternatives
The line was short
In truth it was dead
The guy behind the counter
Was pleasant enough
Bored out of his mind
I couldn’t decide
There was no favorite
Nothing to suggest
My prior feelings
Were on target
Thick mud in a cup
Was my only choice
Heading toward the door
He asked
“Are you Jewish?”
I turned and noticed
A yamaka pinned to his head
Trying to smile
His dark features familiar
It takes one to know one
I realized
Smiling
He motioned toward
The small sign which read
“Kosher”
A Kosher juice drink?
A Rabbi actually prayed
Over the strawberries?
I rolled my eyes
listening to the music
And thought
“Is that Fiddler on the Roof?”
Telling him
I wanted coffee instead
Maybe a ham sandwich
I stepped outside
While he yelled
“God will get you!”
Back at coffee hell
And the long horrid line
Industrial tunes
Shook the walls
Punk girls grimaced
Rude customers sneered
But the coffee…
So dark and rich
Caressed my soul
While my spirits soared
Suddenly
I remembered
Passing out from drugs
And booze
Trying to watch
‘Shindlers List’
“God will get you!”
