“I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.”
T. S. Eliot
It’s an addiction besotted with rage and cream
Real, smooth, dreamy cream
Heavenly whipped to satisfaction good cream
The kind which always rises to the Top!
And to the utmost where only one cynic
Will stand pulling rank
Taking the place of manipulators and drama queens
Red eyed enthusiasts, chain-sleepers, and gauche gurus
Arguing that such an existence is puerile since this existence
Needs a daily, morning Wake up of the Gods!
This ethereal froth takes it all away
The edge, the riddle, the battlements
This whisked up nirvana makes it
No matter how many sips or stirs…
It’s an addiction betrothed with fury and cream
Upper lips got a gift, white mustache cream
Puts stars in your eyes, good cream
Talks the devil out of a day, real cream
Always rises to the Top!
It’s an addiction
A really good cup