el salvadoran

Brash

Folder: 
Personal

"This is it,

the last time.

Not my last time,

for there will be many more,

 

but before I go,

take a second.

Or two.

As though leaving a humble abode

 

for the last time.

Or realistically,

one to be proud of,

one no need for humility.

 

A tendency to be crass, 

the one-stop coffeeshop 

that was the first building

foot stepped in,

 

the exact final destination

of a journey

across from

one Ocean to the next.

 

First impressions,

wild differences between

vernacular and tone,

'shaka brah', 

 

and an immediate inquiry

as to where the hell

I come from.

Brash,

 

but immediately warm

the very first contact

turned out to be,

only to observe

 

more than a year of stumbles,

pieces scribbled,

baristas in and out,

one to be a brother

 

calling this location

headquarters,

locomotives blaring by

in a flash of red

 

everyday.

Bicentennial

the count not of years,

but of poetic conveyance,

 

written in the soft glow

of this shop,

this shop the subject

times so often giving

 

detail to who,

what, where,

and how that one girl,

that one time,

 

smelt as she walked by.

Edited,

the time spent 

since the Spring,

 

but some things never change,

and that's how at home

I feel in this booth.

Bottoms up,

 

here's to you,

one last brew,

one last time. 

No more lines

 

to be written

here,

skate to the next place,

though it won't be the same."

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Home, closed down... I'll be wandering around town on a longboard for awhile. Two books written here at Brash Coffee, the local coffee shop I walked in the first hour of being in Chattanooga.

 

Cheers, Brash.