Each day about this time
is a thing that must be done.
Though still dark or clean from morning sun
I need to sit and sip that expectant balm.

As it’s warm song becomes a part of me
I begin to rise from last nights realm
of four o’clock waking and restless dreams
and the wish for cooler sheets

I tried to give you up - I had too much
But each day you become my true friend once again
And as I wake with you and come alive
I swear my pledge to you

my father sat in a pool
of mid-morning sunshine
on the raised patio
overlooking the garden
an open book in his lap
the dog asleep at his side
the lightest of clouds
decorating the horizon
and a whisper of leaves
his only distraction

as i rushed to the kitchen
for a hastily made
better-than-nothing version
of a flat white
that i wouldn't even enjoy
only ten minutes to spare
before yet another meeting
i paused for a moment
to take in this scene
resplendent as he was
peacefully present
behind the radiance
of diaphanous lace
breeze-rippled curtains
suffused with sunlight

a pertinent reminder
of something which
i didn't have time
to consider

Lisa and I were watching one of our favorite series last night, a Japanese manga called “The Way of the Househusband” and I could barely keep my eyes open. I went to bed at a decent hour (11:30) but when I got in bed, I couldn’t sleep, I just laid there. It was rude and caused me to oversleep.

I don’t mean to brag, but I can go from oversleeping, to bushed and showered in less than 15 minutes, I’m really a marvel of efficiency (with still wet hair), especially since we wear scrubs.
I grabbed my iPad, stuffed it in my rucksack, and hey, I was ready to go.

In the living room, it took me a moment to situate myself - it was a very noisy and disorienting environment - what with Lisa yelling at me for running late, but soon we were off.

Just a girl, her lemon ginger Kombucha, and her angry roommate, ready to face the world.

We stepped out into the morning and.. Ughh! I’d forgotten my AirPods. I double checked, not there.
Lisa gives me a threatening look. “PLEASE,” I begged, desperately, “MY AIRPODS!”
“OH, my GOD!” Lisa said, glancing, irritatedly at the Apple Watch I gave her for her birthday.

I ran up the stairs and was back in NO time, really, really ready to go.
Just a girl, her Kombucha, AirPods and angrier roommate, ready to face the world.

My sister’s apartment is about 7 walking minutes from the hospital. As we were walking, I had my AirPods in and was rolling with Kanye. I in NO way endorse his CrAzY. But If I start the day out, with “Through the Wire” and “Jesus walks,” I’m tweaked for whatever gamut Rebecca (my surgeon) has in store for me. I paused the slaps, momentarily, as we passed a herd of boys, but I was bouncing again in a blink.

Lisa and I are in the second week of our two-month, summer fellowships - shadowing surgeons (different surgeons) for “clinical experience.” The first thing I do every workday morning is bring Rebecca a large coffee (from the cafeteria). She comes in at 5:30am every morning of the week and leaves God-knows-when - certainly, well after we do at 4:30pm.

She spends the three hours before I come in, reviewing patient notes and surgical plans. I gently rapped on her open door. She doesn’t look up, but she knows it’s me.
“Good morning,” I whisper, Rebecca’s seated at her desk, working on her laptop. I set the coffee on her right side and after I remove the pre-existing empty cups, I hesitate.

“What’s up,” she says, leaning into her screen to check something as she keys to enlarge it.
“I have a small question,” I say, “Are we supposed to be filling out timecards?” She doesn’t say anything, continuing to examine the - whatever. After a few seconds, I added:
“Quinn said we have to fill out timecards.”

“Did he?” Rebacca asked, rhetorically, after a bit. She’d stopped studying the screen and gotten a faraway look. Then, after another moment, she said, “Well, bless his heart,” which made me chuckle, because we’re both southern girls and that’s shorthand for “f**k him.”

“Thank you.” she says (for the coffee). I’d been dismissed.
We have rounds in twenty minutes.

Liberty bell has rung for the
longest time friends come and go
All the time why can't it be
     The best news*
I ever heard in a long time
Sleepless nights at bedtime
Sunset opens worth waiting for
     Healing- time -heart

We are on Prime- Time
  Long healing coffee
Anytime peace of mind

Waiting for the right time
How come its more the wrong time
We all work fulltime long hours
Hits you in a whole lifetime
Nothing heals I love my trees
Maple cherry blossom wild flowers
Having strong bold coffee in
the Eiffel Towers  


The train is coming but
the wrong one
All alone holding time
With your coffee cup
Please stop to think
Stirring my coffee
Long wait sometimes life stinks
 
Cell phones and so many links

Long sip- my- neck- out
 Amazon jungle long time -out  
      Long night-out
 
   Long wait hooked like a bait
Please God! I cannot wait
     
      *        *        *        *        *

Long sip Villa- man dressed Vet
He stuck his neck out to her
mind and body set

Incredibly delicate several pieces of bread
Incredible idea of immeasurable proportions
Incredible finished cups of lasagna
                                      and coffee,
and the choice of spaghetti and
poet John Ashbury who contemplates severe depression like though in the most pea-cocked just yet romantic way, I am not depressed and he is not better. We are all equal and that was not improvement or wellness. We are all equal and should treat each other nicely or nicely.

I’m t's terrible sometimes especially when I am lonely and alone with instead the of the other I want to be with you often so I will try and say or spell it out to you I’ll write when I'm with you.

How is it, that again,
A mug of earthenware,
Spun with love hand,
Breaks in the sink,
And I glue it back together,
Where the pieces shattered.

You think I'd learn,
To be more careful,
More deliberate when I stacked the dishes,
But I've done this twice now.

I only have so many mugs to break,
Yet it seems a fact of life,
That accidents happen,
But should both these truths collide so many times again and again and again,

Then,
I will have no more mugs for my coffee.

Leong dreamt of meeting Jesus,
at the Koffee coffee shop.
It was early and not too busy,
so they had a chance to talk.

He was well dressed and looked quite nordic,
which was a surprise to her at first.
“Because we all know he was born in China
and Beijing the city of his birth”

At first, he kept it casual,
he talked a lot about his dad,
but he began to be rather judgey,
as some religious people can.

When he asked her for her digits,
she was put off by his entitled vibe.
In the end he got fake-numbered.

“It was a lowkey way to decline,
and both pacify the “boss’” son,
and keep him on her side.”

I became Holmes, past knowing true:
In every sense, I'd seek for you.

Now, taking the cobbles consciously,
Sick, mad, of the essence of this construct,
Dismantling the ancien régime to see
That I am all your stains in concert -

I am made up of every last touch -
Originality's a lie, save in
The combination that you see - as such
It is unique, but I still cave in

At the dawn that nothing is my own,
And much like as if you were a coffee
I'd downed: I could not, for my life, disown
The five million senses cutting me

For the time, for every conscious cup
I'd take and take again: Why should I dull
And cut myself this way, a life made-up
Of such a tannin-full ideal?

My way as a writer is to fall
In love, in my eyes, in yours, in raptures,
In despair, in tough crowds, on God, to call
On my muse and survive the ruptures

Of worlds and heavens, both real and made,
And feel the rain upon my face, but Lord,
How often do I feel, and feel the raid,
Engaged by scent, blush, needle, salt, word?

All too much makes nothing, and I can't flee
To seek another cup: I must seek me.

We were in this small cafe on our morning
   tea break
Me and some of my work colleagues
Someone inquired after my wellbeing
How I was
I motioned with my hand as if to say 'So, so"
Then I said
"I'm still a bit shaky"
'Why", they said, "what happened to you ?"
I answered "I was in a car crash last night"
"What!!!", they all said really concerned, "you shouldn't have come to work today, you should have stayed at home... you might be in
  shock!"
Then I said 'It was only a dream'. I went on "Yea, I dreamt I was in a car
  crash
I was driving down this terrible winding
   mountain road
Like something you'd get over in Italy
It was like a spiral staircase, going round and
   round
All these terrible bends
And the car it's getting faster and I know I'm
   starting to lose control
So for a moment I look down trying to figure
   out the controls
But suddenly when I look up again we've
   overshot a Bend
And We're heading straight into a wall
It's like everything goes into slow motion
You know there's no avoiding it
You can only brace yourself for the impact
And then BAM!! POW**!!! .....
And then I can't remember what happened
   after that.
Maybe I became unconscious"....then looking
   at them all around the table I said
"Maybe I'm still unconscious, maybe I'm just dreaming you guys sitting here
   right now
Maybe the dreamworld is the real world
And the real world but a dream...(tapping my finger on the table) a solid dream"
Then I took a sip of my coffee and said
"One thing...the coffee tastes nicer over on
  this side".