by Tony Robles

I keep going to Peep’s Coffee
The coffee isn’t great
But the place has been
A has-been place where
It still happens and once I killed
A roach there by accident
And the coffee is constant in
Its consistency ranging from
Watery to a semi-syrupy serum
that takes care of what ails you

A tight budget keeps
Me coming and I don’t
Got a plot to piss in but
The coffee is only 75 cents
A cup

On the wall is a
Calendar stained with a
Year that passed away many
A fuckin’ moon ago and the
Coffee keeps coming, keeps
Pouring, sometimes bitter,
Sometimes better with grounds
Floating, never weak

And the conversation is a
Tangle of stops, stutters,
Guttural flutters, laughs
Curses and good natured

“Say man, this
Some nasty ass

What you call it?

It’s called arabaca-dabra

And a big
Swig is taken

“Taste more like

Laughter, wet with
Words down the wrong
Pipe, forgotten and
Coughed up

And the guy at the
Counter of Peep’s coffee,
A Chinese guy who makes
More than coffee replied,

“I piss in your grits”


and the grits
are served up in the
grittiest of ways
the way it should

Peep’s coffee

A unique
© 2018 Tony Robles