Pour over coffee misses that percolator sound
They’re kind but wish you Christian.
A single origin belief.
Through the portal to the kitchen,
yolk crusting over
— room temp citrus to the upteenth.
This salad’s just a garden
with no rooting. Lemons
aren’t for decorating.
Here, everyone wears hats backwards.
Here, ‘brother’ feels differently.
Here, a beard is a name is a sculpture.
Here, stainless has two meanings.
Here, I’ve never been as clean as these counters.
Here, music does what wallpaper dreams.
Here, the chairs are bolted down.
Here, a smile is a wink.
Behind the counter, preserved & in lights,
break glass for probiotics - chase it with
something green.
Today’s poem is snarky - and its snarky about a culture I’ve been (and kinda am) a part of. I used to work at a bougie coffeeshop in Nashville (a town with many a bougie coffeeshop — still probably the best coffee town I’ve been to) and there were so many hallmarks of the third wave coffee scene - notably ownership, branding, aesthetic, etc. Some of them drove me a bit crazy. That said, support your local coffeeshops :)
This morning I was making coffee (a pour over, sigh) and although the steady drip, drip, drip is quite pleasant… I was missing the warmth of a percolator’s gurgle. I was missing the malleability and “everyone-ness” of a diner. And as a result… snark.
Thanks to Tom Vander Ark for the “break glass for probiotics” line - pretty great.
*there apparently isn’t consensus on whether it’s pour over, pour-over, or pourover. Interesting.