The monotony of the world at 10am
Pulses in like light through an office window
Elsewhere people pack groceries in trunks
Having secrets and appointments to keep.
I have paperwork, unanswered e-mails.
These must wait as I fill my paper cup.
I pour the clear, cold liquid in a pot
To mix with sludge dug from Styx’s banks
And listen to the maker percolate
And snarl the steam of bitter morning rage.
I sniff its daily vitriol and toast
The sunlit, sepia cubicle photos,
The gaunt happy figures vacationing
Now in motes of light and asbestos dust.
I am tired. This coppery drink burns my chest.
The world stops. And I seem to keep going.
Reviews
-
omgoodness
this is very good. my favourite line is the second one - 'stale light' - this image is very interesting, but i really understand what you mean.
i have to rush out now but i will be back to comment further later! my one suggest so far is that it would be better to say 'the styx' instead of 'styx'
-
Good Coffee.
Hey Chicago. My first read-through felt bumpy. The poem seemed to have difficulty maintaining focus and pace. In other words it felt like you didn't really know what you wanted to write about. Poetically, once the coffee got made it seemed to come to life and you achieved clarity of a kind. However I think that poetic strategy, if intentional, is a little too laboured to say the least. In short, I'd shorten this - dramatically. Oh, and Id just call it 'Coffee'. Titles are hugely important, don't you think? I'll message you my suggested edit for your eyes only. Once it got going it really got going. Good coffee you make! >W<
April 25, 2008
Edit | Reply