There is no graceful transition
of a cup of hot hot coffee
from one hand to another hand,
the cup only has one handle.

It is inherantly akward,
almost as if it’s intended,
a brief, forced, colaboration
to keep the coffee in the cup.

Contorting to not spill a drop,
Still, clumbsy, after these long years
and a thousand repetitions,
ten thousand hot cups of coffee.

We angle ourselves to the task,
a brief intimate fumbling,
until the cup is handed off,
and the best part of it is gone.

                                     -Still Here

Country nighttime turned off the world
Absolute window blacking
Any other life void-invisible
Universe shrunk snack-size
Existence is only this cab,
these tiny lights,
this fuzzing radio
One direction
Only ahead
Only these tracks

A change in rhythm signals new territory
Lower infrastructure spend
Budget acknowledged by
transitioning drum track
More toms
Double kick
More bass, but
no less hypnotising, no less soporific, no less slowing, no less…

Snap.
Driver vigilance alarm earns its keep
Pierced by safety sound needles
Bleary eyes split open
Only closed for seconds
Enough to dry 3am eyelash glue
Intermittent, intensifying battle
Open versus closed
Here versus where
Wake versus yawning, rocking, mesmerising, irresistible…

Snap.
Assistance required
Scan for options
Snoozing thermos drools its last drips onto the floor mat
Moment of silence for coffee, our absent friend
What else?
Lunch box offers carrot sticks
Sharp, crisp, smug
No help. What else? Cake.
A silent bargain
– okay calories, we’ve had our differences, but we need to pull together
Health is tomorrow, safety is now

Sleepiness shrinks and stretches place and time
There is only here
Only now
Battle and bargains
Winning and losing
Until the sun comes up

Poorly holding up to the harsh assault
Mal reggendo all’aspro assalto
well, if that's so, aight,
and this is the test, we took  it,

what would ya thank for that, eh?

Heavy metal, anvils are the archetype,
before Iron Horses and world tying steel
industrial spirit to try like hell
to move a mountain told to move,
ai, we had a form of free press, indeed

and steam, bound in cylinders ground
and smoothed to specs a micron or two
from perfectly round, squared center to edge,
by pi, the idea, we need
to make compassion,
compass me round about, and think me mad,
with deep and sensitive gentle assurance,
ai, we made the crossing, we're on
the other side.

I'm not, I am a little drunk.
Rare state, feels familiar, kind of rejuvenating.

Wisdom smiles on those who try,
and try again.

Remember all this is after we won heaven,
by being invincibly ignorant as to why not.

(sonnet #MMMMMMMMCMXVI)


October's but twelve days in, and the trail
To yonder looks as bare as erst wont hence,
Trees naked by the score as yellows thence
Look orange for age, and drop. Oh me! In frail
Excuse it's "Game Oer" ere I realized. Hail
Next season with the usual mourning, sense
In black, as Death stalks joys like no defense
Exists. What happened to the féte's detail?!
And wherefore am I yawning, listless, fer
All that, so very dull?! I'd coffee to
Be certain, in a big mug too. In poor
Reply, now eat Chobani under blue
Heavns no rain haunts, and be as t'were
What, eh? What do I need to do? Seek You.

12Oct24b

the coffee is brewing,
i hear the clock ticking
the vendors outside, doing their part selling
birds calling out to their mates and their mates, responding.
Everything that’s happening around me, I can sense clearly
But what will happen to you and me?
I wish we had eternal clarity.

The coffee did brew, leaving an essence in the air
But the clock is refusing to tick;
refusing to let this moment pass by
giving me chances that I'm refusing to take
chances to be stuck in the moments our eyes met
the vendor's curious silence
curious to see if I'll make a move
the birds and their mates are quiet now
Waiting for us to say to each other-
“I love you..”