Coffee

The Starbucks on Main Street:
filled with lurching zombies
needing their morning fill.
Their life force:
poured from a black machine.
Steaming goodness:
beans crushed and liquefied.
Cream and sugar mixed in
like a giant melting pot
that God stirs with his hand.
Frothy magic:
rising up from the bottom.
The heat fogs my glasses,
reminds me of lovers
in the backseat of a car.
Stressful mornings:
all washed away
by the simple act
of the throat swallowing
the dark substance.
Until it happens:
this wonderful miracle
spills onto my pants,
leaving a brown stain
that will forever have the smell
of the rising sun.


~J.V.Harker~
~10 Decembrer 2008~