The cashier calls me Sweetie Shall I call him Hon? Sweetie does not roll off The tip of his tongue He needs more time at the mirror Rehearsing his words and Synchronizing the turn of The iPad in our direction
Sure, he works in a bakery café And maybe I should be glad He doesn’t address me as Muffin But I know that Grandpa over there Is going to get a Sir with his Danish Though I want the cashier to say Sweetie to him, too, because I like a little chaos with my coffee
Draft, Susan Thomsen, June 2026
Another coffee poem... and this one with a bakery. Maybe I'm on a roll. (Hahaha.)
On Friday, June 26, the Poetry Friday roundup is at The Miss Rumphius Effect, and the host is Tricia Stohr-Hunt.
I will take and love all the coffee poems you can share with us, Susan. These are hilarious, love this latest especially. I may never look at a young barista the same again! : ) All I could think is I’m glad he didn’t say “cupcake”).
Ha ha, exactly, Linda. Thank you for your kind words! I may have to call him “Sugar” if he insists on this kookiness going forward. I mean, the poem’s speaker may have to, of course.
I love the strong thread of internal thought and acute observation embedded in this observational moment. Your resulting poem is a treat, Susan. just like a good morning coffee when you can just sit, sip and see the machinations of the world floating around you,
Here in the south we are steeped in sugars and sweethearts and hons, and I kind of love it. I also love how much fun you’re having with these coffee shop poems! Delicious!
Irene, you’re right! Even my no-nonsense Mississippi dad was called Sugar from time to time, I’m sure. I feel like down south everyone is called by these endearments, but up here it’s only women of a certain age. Clearly, more research (and cups of coffee) are needed!
Karen, thanks so much! I just may have to hang out in the bakery café and collect more poems. I love to stop in for a cappuccino, and if I had a machine at home, I’d miss all this!
My pleasure, Patricia! This was fun to write and a good way for me to reframe a very slightly irritating experience. Er, I mean, reframe the speaker’s experience. (Ha ha.)
What a funny poem! I love it. The “sweetie” is so southern, isn’t it? I was called “my love” numerous times by a cashier at the Dollar General. It began to feel uncomfortable. As I was leaving, she called the next customer (a tall black man) “my love”, too. Then my shoulders relaxed.
The postmistress called the young man in front of us “Punkin.” When I commented that my mom used to call me that, she was slightly horrified that she had said it. She needed no more practice — it rolled off her tongue so naturally she didn’t even hear herself say it! We laughed at that.
Susan!!! I love this poem so much!!! The lines “I should be glad/He doesn’t address me as Muffin” made me giggle!!! LOVE “I like a little chaos with my coffee.” Same, Susan!! I can see poem gracing the walls of kitchens and coffee shops everywhere!!!!
Ha ha ha — I love the flights of fancy that one word took you on. We get a lot of “hon” and “sweetie” down here, and as someone who isn’t a born Texan (or Southerner!) it still surprises me. But also, funnily enough, has grown on me.
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