BREAKFAST
Dark-headed
coffee is a keen companion
Of
depth and wit,
Finely
calibrated scientific instrument.
Swinging
his censer just below my nostrils,
He
slays my logic with perfume.
“What
crow has stolen your words?”
He
asks. “Has your eloquence
Turned
into baubles in his nest?”
I
pay no attention to the ribbing.
He
is too valuable a vizier.
I
mine gold every morning.
I
take my breakfast like a king—
To
my right salted fish,
To
my left steaming rice,
Fresh
egg is the jester.
Butter,
a bird, is eyeing the bread.
Milk
dives smoothly into coffee.
Sugar
disappears, memory of a dream.
A
cock crosses swords with the day.
Things
to do arrange themselves,
Tallest
to shortest.
Digesting
a bolus,
I
rise ready to run the next marathon,
Wakeful
as a bat, electric as a hawk.
Morning steps
forward…
Morning steps
forward, freshly washed, newly fed, tautly wound, a limber bow,
Ready to
spring, tumble, wheel, pull at oars, throw the hammer, leap the long jump,
High kick,
vault, cartwheel forward, lunge, Superman punch, elbow strike, grapple,
Throw, bound,
mount a motorcycle, zip, zap, round and round the block,
Water ski,
slicing the surface—fine fillets—smoothly, upswept, propelled by a parachute of
air,
Sling saucers
aloft, spinning pizza dough, snare them whirling on sticks, bob, bobble,
Hop, flip
bowls from foot to head, head to foot, right to left, left, right, back again.
Hot
fresh bread…
Hot
fresh bread, breakfast time:
Fragrant,
not a flower,
Warming,
not a fire,
Lively,
not a flame,
Soothing,
not a salve,
Kindly,
not a caress;
Dark
honey wheat,
Black
oat barley,
Sweet
cinnamon raisin,
Savory
apple walnut,
Ciabatta,
Foccacia, Pita,
Bublik,
Chapati, Pandesal—
Parmesan,
Romano—two-cheese,
Sunflower,
sesame, fennel—three-seed,
Every
type of loaf
Bundled
in brown wrapper,
Crackling
in your embrace,
Steaming
scented clouds,
Breathe
deeply
Atop
a mountain;
Billowing,
fluffy blanket,
Pull
it up,
Tuck
it snug
Beneath
your chin;
Bracing,
poppy fireside,
Cross
your arms,
Hold
it to your heart.
Fed
in deepest winter,
Bathed
at height of summer,
Refreshed
when day is dry,
Sheltered
when life is wet,
Healed
when you are pierced,
Becalmed…even
after you are violently shaken,
Remade
in hope,
Transformed
in joy,
Nourished,
uplifted…blessed:
Every
good thing comes to you
As
a loaf of bread.
WORK
Work
springs from bed, time ringing,
Switches
off alarm, not clock, world,
Ticking,
spinning, running, rushing—
Undresses,
showers, splashes—
Sun,
birds, window—towels, fluffy, dry—
Dresses,
belt, tie, mirror, brushes hair,
Bounds
for egg, rice, coffee—
Brushes
teeth, brushes hair again,
Hops
in car, drives, slows down, traffic—
Rain,
wipers, left, right, metronome—
Signals,
turns, parks, jumps out—at last!—
Guard,
elevator button, fourth floor,
Hello,
good morning, sits down, breathless,
Switches
on computer, types—tik, tak,
Tikkity-tak—gets
up, coffee maker—almost
No
one here, checks calendar—holiday.
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| What gets you out of bed in the morning? |
