the church of caffeine

the line
is long at
the coffee shop
thirty deep
to get their morning
fix. it's the only
store in town
with power.
it is the church
of caffeine.
the temple
of whipped cream.
the pantry full
of sweets.
they wait, and
wait, sagging in
a zig zag
line, staring
longingly at those
exiting with
their lips
pressed to communion
cups, the crumbs
of wafers
on their chins.