by Shaun Lawton
"There was not a party," insisted the barista.
"There wasn't anything going on, really."
We turned around and left.
"That was a beat scene," she said.
"We sure could use some coffee," I replied.
"You cannot be poisoned without an ID," she lied.
We are plugged into the system, I thought.
Linked in with a microchip. So we turned and went back.
We stood in line and got scanned in with extra credit.
"Don't back down," she whispered to me.
"Or you're never going to get it." We ordered
a couple of Double dirty chais instead
using nothing but the field in our head.
I didn't know what to say at all,
just glad I'd set up a Pay Pal.
Ever since I began to date her
I'd wait to check the tab in my inbox later
Ever since transactions went neural interface
It really helped to free us to meet again, face to face
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