The coffee exploded in my cup
and then exploded in my brain.
While pouring it in, it splashed
violently into my little white
styrofoam cup. It seemed
angry and rebellious and
ever more attractive.
I wanted to drink this elixir of
go juice more than any other
beverage I could remember.
It’s audacious Columbian spirit
flagrantly flipping the finger
to the mundane and mild.
It was hot and burned my lips
just like I knew it would.
It was mean and harsh and
wouldn’t just go quietly or gently.
It wasn’t it’s nature.
In my brain, it started a fire,
it burnt down a bridge and
stole from orphans.
It crashed a car and shot up
a cantina.
It loved passionately
It played in a punk band
It did drugs
It tasted the neuro-marrow
before burning out as
brightly as it entered.
I don’t think lunch
will be half as
exciting.
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