I gave her my order,
She gave me a quarter,
I gave her a “thank you”
She gave me my coffee.
I turned, to my right - clockwise,
Grabbed a straw,
And only a straw.
I don’t feed milk to my coffee.
My coffee is juche -
Meaning self-reliant, in Korean -
A term intensely popularized
By Kim Il-Sung,
Kim Jong-Un’s Grandfather,
The founder, and first father,
Of the DPRK.
*Back to the Jersey Turnpike.*
One of those rest-stops,
With not-so hearty,
Not so-healthy
Grab-and-go options.
But I just grabbed a coffee.
But he needs a friend,
Anyone, anything,
A complement.
I don’t like mike-n-ikes,
Nor M&M’s. I’m particular about my candy.
I have a soft spot for the hard-shelled double-bubble
Gum balls. But here, on the turnpike,
The only gum-ball machine they have,
Amidst the other machines
Filled with the other candies I don’t like,
Are blue-raspberry gum balls.
I’ll pass.
I circumambulate the machines once more,
Counter-clockwise,
A mixed-flavor gum-ball machine!
I slide my precious quarter in,
And twist the lever, right,
Cup my hand around the disposal latch,
Until the gum-ball comes to papa.
I didn’t think.
What are the odds: a blue-raspberry gum-ball.
I suppose, its better than nothing.
I guess?