There goes the neighborhood...

An aftermath of
used coffee cups and spoons
arrayed on white tables
a flock gabs beneath
my perch
keeping the kids awake.

Why don't they just go away?
The music wafting through the rafters
was tolerable.
After a few weeks it blended
right in with the hiss of steam,
the door bell chimes,
the hum of traffic along the road--
hypnotic white noise.

They came chattering,
looking at books and papers,
starring at each other,
bobbing their heads, sipping,
clacking on keyboards,
scratching away with sticks on paper.

Their over powering stench
led me to contemplate
how to drive them off,
out of my sanctuary
back to wherever they'd come from.

Strategically placed in cups,
on food
as they milled about
I awaited their response
to my white messengers
from above.

They paid no heed,
oblivious.
Perhaps their thoughts
turned to
marshmallows and cream?

My ire had missed the mark.
Now I've flown this
coffee shop coop.


©polarpaul 2008