Morning Drug This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

December 21, 2017
Custom User Avatar
More by this author

Coffee
changes color as it swirls,
my morning chameleon.
The spoon drowns in caffeine;
I’d inject it directly into my veins if I could,
if it was feasible.
I’d swallow pills dry
if they tasted like peppermint mocha.
Coffee
makes my heart race,
a mouse stuck in a never-ending wheel
until his little ticker gives out.
Did you know
that if you give a mouse a button
to trigger his nucleus accumbens
he’ll push it over and over and over
until he passes out?
That’s how I feel about coffee-
more and more and more
until my cardiovascular organ bursts
and my blood turns to bean juice.
Every morning
I make coffee like a Holy Prayer,
light the candles and open the gospel,
anoint my body with International Delight;
let coffee steal my soul
until I’m nothing but a husk of
eye bags and little sleep.






Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback