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What am I but a cup of coffee
Once every Friday?
Nameless unless
They need a call sign,
A handle mishandled and mispronounced,
Meaningless.
Who am I? A recurrent stranger
Known briefly and forgotten.
The counterpeople come and go,
Minimum wage can't hold them.
Cafes like this one belie their past,
A heritage of loose and easy
Association. We're no longer interdependent;
We pride ourselves on autonomy,
Isolation of the souls
Doomed to wander the wastes like ghosts.