Waiting for Coffee

I'm standing here, thinking of Allen Ginsberg, espresso and chemistry, and the
     concept of the "Have a penny, Leave a penny, Need a penny, Take a penny"
     jar
The efficiency of florescent lightbulbs weighs on my mind and I'm thrust to
     the why of the way people follow the norm as if there was one and you
     could step on it as if it were the solid yellow line
NO PASSING
Do not pass go do not collect 200 dollars
I'm stuck here in this cage as the rain hits the glassed-in walls like baby
     bottoms on vinyl and roll to the ground in the glean of the (florescent)
     streetlamp
I'm caught inside these walls, and I want to stretch my arms until my skin
     explodes to feathers - I can feel the wings inside of me - and then I
     will be able to fly away from this minimum wage existence and this
     drunk down town
I want to spin and turn in the glory of excess and feel my face against
     the glory of the night I want to eats the stars and drink my tea
     from the moon
But the green light comes on the coffee has announced itself has found its
     wings and I pour some into the shaking cup of an unsmiling hand