The Abbey Coffeehouse

An almost incense like Mediterranean spice scent stuck my nose as I entered. There was potential that my visit to the Abbey Coffeehouse could have been a spiritual experience. The counter, the lights, and a few pews looked salvaged from a cathedral. A second look showed how worn the place was. The imitation tinning was falling from the ceiling in places giving the painted clouds a melancholy tone. The decay also showed behind the bar. The vintage Astoria espresso machine (in operation at the Abbey for 10 years) looked like it could either pull a sweet vintage shot or shake apart in the attempt. On the wall were numerous certificates awarding the Abbey best Coffeehouse awards from various magazines, the most recent I saw being 2005. This was became the biggest symbol of decay to me as I sampled the espresso. The barista pulled the doser lever twice into the bottom of a single shot basket. I couldn't even see anything in there when he proceeded to tamp it with the attachment on the grinder. He pulled the resulting four-ounce shot into a chipped 12 ounce mug. There was but a trace of pallid crema on the surface of this obviously over extracted tincture. I drank a respectable amount and then opted for the house blend. It was strangely spicy with an all too bright and demure finish, the shop’s whole atmosphere (the incense quality as well as the decay) in the cup.

Abbey Coffeehouse - Indianapolis, IN, 46204-1130

For the Love of Elaine

Do you know how much I love you?
Does my embrace speak sweetness?
Do my caresses convey love's depth?
Do my kisses whisper my heart's beat?
Does my goofy love struck grin give you an inkling
As my tears start trickling?
My love for you is a honeyed tickle
My love for you makes bottomless my heart
It is sweet to me as communion wine
And as mystical as the bread