Persephone is headed to Hell but first she decides to
meet Christ in Manhattan.
She takes in the sights of 7th Avenue; shards of rain
slice the sky.
She stops at the Cafe des Poetes for a cappuccino:
“Ex-presso! she orders.
“How fast?” asks the waiter.
“Oh, the puns,” Persephone sighs. “Please stop!”
“Make him.” the waiter points through the screen at the writer .
Persephone gives the writer an irritated glance, “He never stops!
Ex-presso please.”
“But you came in for a cappuccino.”
“But I ordered an ex-presso.”
“Not stating your intention! This is no way to meet Christ!”
(c) Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights Reserved
Reblogged this on The Militant Negro™.
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Very clever, very true.
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Thanks! I sometimes worry that it’s too weird.
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