An Ode to Taste


O’ what a day to venture to Taste

For the brewing coffee, I do make haste

Out on  the corner of North Street

It’s where the hipsters come to meet


Pretentious patrons sit inside

Wearing Chanel, reading Hyde

The Macbook laptops silent whir

Searching “Gucci designer fur”


The black drinks board is partly hidden

Behind the Armani wooden fitting

Who’s got time to read the price?

Hark, what drivel! Ornamental rice


A reach for my wallet to pay by card

The barista’s face contorts hard

“We’ll not accept that payment here,

We operate in the 1930s, dear”


A soya latte, pumpkin-spiced with curd

Is made for Anastasia Vivian-Odette the Third

Edward Sharpe drifts through the room

I think its music, but don’t assume


Sweltering warm, the intense heat

I’m glad to get out on the street

The final obstacle is the door

What? You’ve never used rope as a handle before?


Passing through the threshold, I spot the cakes

A sea of pastry, baking lakes

Lemon vegan, carrot seed, avocado toffee

I would not go, but love the coffee


Written by Rhodri Lavan