A Tall Order

I've reworked the previous format to my concrete poem "Starbucks Crew: Tall Orders" in an attempt to show the rare rhymes and numerous near rhymes more clearly:

There's also a covert sense of atmospheric pressure from an occult espresso pressing down upon a couple or more of croissants pushing back through dynamic tension and holding the poem up visually from underneath.

Or so says my inner lit-crit cult-crit theory exponent . . .