Starbucks and Me.

 

I fancy Starbucks.

Such an enchanted place,

full of civil people.

Cooperative staff act as butlers.

A grande skinny cappuccino with 1/2 pack of raw sugar and a light sprinkle of chocolate powder doesn’t raise an eye brow.

 

The coffee is good.

Not great – but good.

 

Starbucks informs me of hunger in Africa

I like to buy coffee there because it’s helps those people.

Starbucks is green.

Every cup is made from some thing recycled.

Every cup asks me to recycle.

 

Clientele cradle their cups while debating in delicate dialog.

Laptops glow with enlightenment to the wi fi set.

Yes, I order my brew while mingling with intellectuals.

 

You walk away feeling honorable.

A good potion,

guiltless deeds

and all the while sustaining the earth.

I do derive pleasure from Starbucks.

 

And then,

then I go on with life,

gratified I saved the earth.

Gratified I helped the hungry.

Yet, no one notices

the beggar at the curb.

Why not recycle his life with gentle words and deeds?

Yes, Starbucks is an honorable experience,

but the beggar begs to differ.

 

Don’t be fooled.

Starbucks caters to the ME in us, not the WE in us.

 

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