I like mine two cream, two sugars my addiction sans friction.
You see coffee is my benediction to alphabet soup.
                                                                                                         Sing as song of sixpence.
                                                                                                         a pocket full of rye.
                                                                                                         four and twenty blackbirds
                                                                                                         baked in a pie.
Sister Loretta.That witch.
She gave me my first hit.
So long ago I had forgotten.
5 foot 2 eyes of blue. In a nun's habit.

I was all of eight years old and full blown away by the woman showing her chin and brow
in the Caribbean heat cool as the other side of the pillow Strange. Even then strange that a woman
would choose to dress in a black full length jacket that swept the ground as she walked.

Sweet as cane syrup. patient as a monk.
She gave me the love of words.

So Where is sister now I wonder ?
Probably pushing daises from under. That was many years ago.

Mia culpa. But I always wished for x-ray eyes. to see beyond her disguise.
Was she all woman or some holy mutation.
built to reject natural passion.
Mia culpa.
sister Loretta was forbidden fruit. One of god's many wives.
And I could only have one ?. Hmmmmm leme think this one over.

Blasphemer.
8 year old wood is hard to mess with.

Any dude out there who went to parochial school and did not have that one
on the replay spool, throw yer hands up.
.....That is what I thought.

Okay. just had my cuppa Joe.
And now I'm gonna let you go.
Just wanted you  all to know.

Sista Loretta was Smokin Hot.

She walked barefoot in the desert and wore desert boots to bed.
My baby was topsy turvy dipsy swervy crossed up curvy clean out of her head.
A cast iron face that kept the truth bound and shackled.
Deep inside her head.
Self deception was her stock in trade and every choice she ever made was reasoned Wearing blinders.The snake that ate her tail
Her logic was.
Circular in nature no ending or beginning. Which guaranteed her winning
Regardless.
But only in her twisty wheelhouse.
Crazy as aa ******* rat.
Twisting facts into tasty pastry.

Seving them up on shiny ware.
Neither here nor either there
Calculating slipknot tension
Telling tales too tall to mention
The daughter of the pretzel maker
Part deluded.Rabid faker.
Pretzel logic
Pretzel minded.
Twisted now and twisted later.
Down the road I go.

So doctor tell me please why am so frail as of late.
I cant keep my food down in fact  I dont even want to eat.
My mother cooks my favorite when I go over.
She sees me wasting away.

"Boy what you doing to yourself" she says.
You looking sickly. You sleep O.K.

Every-ting  Irie  Ma I heard mi-self say.

"If I nevah know betta I would say you love struck".

"But you too old fi puppy love I more than sure"

So tell me son why you looking so weak.

Ma I got a love Jones for Little Angelique.

Small ax fall big tree the old folks say.

Five feet two.
Got hooks in you.

Weak in the knees when she looks at me.
Just a matter of time.
Just a matter of time.

Angelique. Baby.