<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Caffeine<\/strong><\/p>\n He doesn\u2019t like these franchised places He doesn\u2019t want cinnamon sprinkles, He doesn\u2019t welcome sweetened questioning The Doctor told him last week to cut out caffeine. There\u2019s a caf\u00e9 down a side street The tables are splayed with builders: <\/p>\n
\nwith their name-tagged \u201cbaristas<\/em>\u201d,
\ngroomed to be excitable and toothy.
\n(As students should never be.)<\/p>\n
\norganic sustainable stirrers
\nand blends christened according to
\nzeitgeist trending exoticism.
\nHe could apparently peruse their website
\n(free wi-fi!<\/em>) to assess which fair trade bean
\nmeets his needs best.
\nAlso, he doesn\u2019t want tea that\u2019s green.<\/p>\n
\non whether he would like a muffin with that.
\nIf he did, he would simply have asked.
\nAnd no, he\u2019s not<\/em> having a good day.<\/p>\n
\nHe sucks the air in lung-deep, but leaves.
\nUnsatisfied. His loyalty card unstamped.<\/p>\n
\nwhere the woman serving has no teeth.
\nShe gum-mashes Nicorette with
\ncomforting aggression and never looks at anyone,
\nHer forearms pump and plunge her urns,
\nher steaming weaponry. She harrumphs
\nunder-breath curses. Could teach him
\na few new ones.
\nSticky buns slump their enticement
\nin a lump under violet-lit Perspex
\nand a fly-catcher that seems to have once
\nworked very effectively.<\/p>\n
\nfluorescent jackets, copies of The Sun.
\nSlurping creosote-strength tea.
\nHe hates his pinstripes, conspicuous,
\nand remembers his Dad.
\nOrders stewed black tea.
\nSteals a half dozen sugar cubes<\/p>\n