the assholes are everywhere

by Bill White

A quaint cafe downtown
standing far too close,
the war-mongering of my
personal space.

tattoos and work-boots
I must be
a high-school

just another peasant
in the class-war.

she left her patience
in the waiting vol-vo
out front.

I'm sure the heated seats
will keep it warm
and waiting diligently.

but now she wants
her status

served on steaming
smothered with cheeses
hard to pronounce
with a
blue-collar tongue.

and I need not inquire--
it's clear the numerical
figures that sustain her
self-worth and debonair status far surpass
my own.

she desperately needs a

but please--
put the steamed milk in
first and make sure it's
not too hot,
but not just warm either.

I'll take a fuckin’ coffee--
to go.

Originally published in

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