Storm in the cup
Brew it strong and black
That's how I like my expresso!
Father told me when he first visited.
How is your new job?
He anxiously asked unreservedly
I simply nodded
And said something I don't quite remember
He revisited our talk from the week last
The light went off
Suddenly
Don't you pay for your power?
He once again butted in
I feared next on the line was that talk again
Before the power went off
Then I stood to check out his coffee
He stopped me
The talk was coming,
Clearly
When I finally managed to break loose
All was not well in the pot
I was snoozing
And the coffee was all gone!
YOU ARE READING
road to nowhere.... somewhere...
PoetryIt's an agreed coalition of the willing! Airlines agreeing to feed the "esteemed travellers" with miniature stuff, nations hoarding gas and water to pass a UN resolution at Newyork, Geneva, Nairobi and Vienna. We are all playing "house" .
