Monday, June 20, 2011

Coffee Grinder

I'm not entirely sure but I'm fairly convinced that I may have invented the poetry sequel. Don't look too deeply into that, just take my word for it.

On a side-note: I have a confession to make. Most of the poems you read on The Diary of the Merchant Boy is B-sides. This is not my favorite stuff and I'm sorry.

You're incredibly important to me but so is eating and lots of publications consider any poem on a blog as 'previously published'. They don't like 'previously published'. I hope that you'll be able to read some of my favorite stuff in magazines at some point but until then, there is only this blog.

I hope you like this stuff even though it's not my best. Here is the poetry sequel. Somebody oughta say 'amen'.

Coffee Grinder
the coffee grinder woke me-
she was already awake
in her robe in her kitchen.
The whole kitchen smelled like arabica.

she drinks good coffee

she wouldn’t look over the top of that coffee mug-
she just kind of bit the corner
of her bottom lip in that way she does.

her first words: “I’m old enough
to be your mother”

“No, you’re not”
“You don’t know how old I am”
“That’s fine, because I don’t care”

Her hands gravitated to that slightest, cutest,
softness of her belly.

“She’s prettier than me. And younger. I looked her up
on my daughter’s Facebook.”

She re-filled her coffee mug- she drinks her coffee black
‘like the soles of my come-fuck-me heels’, she likes to joke.

“Lots of women wear beauty like clothing- but you-
you walk in it; gather it around you and let it chase after you”

“You’re too young for me.”
“You’re too old to know I don’t deserve you.”

She snatched up all her hair- that she insists feels like straw-
and rubberbanded it without a thought
and floated over to fill up that mug.

“we should go out for coffee”
“What’s wrong with my coffee?”
“There’s a whole lot more out there than
drinking your coffee black.”

She looked up at me over the top of that coffee mug.

2 comments:

  1. Liked the details about the woman, particularly the come fuck me heels because well nevermind. Going to get coffee as a result of this poem. Very visual.

    KT

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  2. Your writing creates great visuals. Great skill.

    ReplyDelete