Wowza, folks. My reader @Chris_Mahan wrote me a coffee poem this morning.
Ksenia's Coffee (Ksenia has a love/love relationship with black coffee.)
She crawled to the kitchen
Ever so weak, nearly dead.
Amazingly, she was still
Able to make coffee.
The Evil Brew, life-giving brew!
She held the cup as in payer,
Inhaled the noxious fumes.
Slowly she sipped the burning ale,
Dark as night without lights,
Burning, searing, causing pain,
Exploding neuron pathways,
Zapping synapses by the billion.
And suddenly, her mind awake,
She floated like a wind swirl
to the open Word document
And typed and typed and typed,
After 2.1 thousand words
That she was wearing only
Last night's white pair of socks.
July 28, 2014. © 2014 Christopher Mahan