Finished a midnight shift,
Serving my species by helping to save strangers’, maybe stranger, lives.
Sitting at the tire and oil change shoppe,
Sipping burnt coffee,
The styrofoam cup covered with black sugar sludge…
Listening to one man bragging,
His son having completed Navy Seal Team 7 training,
The father, a firefighter, keeping up, tandem skydiving nearby.
What does the coffee grower know of this?
Or the person picking coffee beans?
The coffee processing plant workers have an opinion, surely?