Coffee is a brown man
Made from soil,
Pressed into shape,
Waxen as a lizard,
Hat white like dried-out shells,
Pulling at reins of a rearing horse,
Hooves sharp as pickaxes
Kicking up bright clouds of lime.
Dark and fragrant visitor,
He makes his diffident presence felt:
Memories of fresh bread,
Heavy luggage hauled about
By traveling sleepwalkers.
Swinging open the cabinet,
He hands out syrups to sweeten
Hot poultices to soothe
Tonics for the family,
Ointments for friends,
Infusions for the jaded,
Bandages for the heart.
Sweet fragrant coffee…
Sweet fragrant coffee, you fill me with delight,
You sharpen my hearing, focus my sight,
Waken taste and smell with rich, deep notes…
You waft restful draughts, quell restive seas,
Water vineyards and groves, hoe fruit-bearing trees,
Build sturdy safe homes, tidy cities on the plain,
Turn denizens to work for prosperous gain,
Hoist snappy white sails, launch fresh-painted boats…
You uplift my heart, quicken my feeling!
Just do not invade my sleep and dreaming.
I like my coffee hot and black...
I like my coffee hot and black—
hot hornet stings,
black squid ink—
heady broth of
red pine smoke,
|Coffee, nectar of the gods|