Coffee and the Agony of Choice

Coffee and the Agony of Choice

When I was young we’d go into town.
Mum, dad,  three sisters and me.
After a while their legs would wear out
And they’d stop for a cup of tea.
They might treat us all to fish and chips
Along with the welcome brew.
Simple pleasures, childhood remembered.
Outings like this were few.

Me and my sisters had fizzy pop.
Raspberryade, lemon or lime.
We’d see who  could make it last longest,
Having a jolly good time.
Coffee was sometimes favoured
But not very often, you see
Mum and dad would get anxious
If they didn’t have their tea.

Fast forward many more years
Than I would care to own.
Those carefree days when we were young,
Like migrating birds, have flown.
Life is much more complicated
In all sorts of annoying ways,
Let’s return to the old cafe.
What’s it like these days?

Mum and dad would never believe it.
I hardly can myself.
Now a staggering choice of coffee
Displayed upon the shelf.
Caffe Creama, Flat White,
Long black, Cafe Zorro.
Macchiato, Cappuccino.
Well, I might come back tomorrow.

Irish Coffee, Affogato,
Guillermo, Americano.
Chai Latte, Cubano.
Don’t ask me. I don’t know.
Single shot, double shot,
Vienna topped with cream.
Antoccino, Ristretto.
I THINK I’M GOING TO SCREAM!!

Short black, Doppio,
Espresso, Breve and Lungo.
Cortado, Galao,
Espresso Romano.
Scalded milk, steamed milk,
Almond, Rice or Soy.
Skinny, full fat, in between.
I can’t decide – oh boy!

I said to the young Barista (for that is what they’re called)
‘I’d like coffee from a filter’.
His jaw dropped down, his eyes popped out.
I’d got him out of kilter.
I don’t know what you mean’, he said.
‘Are you sure you’ve got it right?’
Oh….take me back in years to when
The choice was BLACK OR WHITE.

May 2019.