Part II:
elusive coffee bitch has poem, will travel

who's to say
she hasn't a poem in her pocket
to whip out at her convenience?
that scathing butch behind the counter
no one knows her name,
but she serves up the java like a sistah
Sistah' Mary Magdalene O'Fuckin'Donnovan
to be more to the point
similar to the foam nipple on my au lait..
lick it off as if it was hers
what's her story?
she slings attitude in my sugar coated mug
wish i could get that pouring arm in the sack..
see the way she can service me
and count her tips all at once? that's talent.
can i delve, divulge, dilute
the mystery in your left cheek's pocket?
what if i just give you my change?

visa and mastercard accepted. :D