While stirring coffee 
watching things dissolve 
and disappear I
can’t help thinking 
maybe it’s us 
this coffee and 
cream and sugar 
us just a 
cup of coffee 
us single things 
blended together losing 
whatever it was 
that made us 
before that makes 
this one cup
an us cup

Sitting bedside early 
morning chill wondering 
staring at floor 
and thinking things 
one of which 
is maybe why 
why I don’t 
and why I 
likely never will 

Coffee kiss
coffee kiss
desire lingers 
and begs
coffee kiss
coffee kiss
desire starts
and stops 
coffee kiss
coffee kiss
desire waits 
another day 

It would appear 
that most people
are interested in
themselves and not 
others this I
find very strange 
it’s as though 
a mirror isn’t 
enough anymore and 
now they need 
someone else to 
reassure them that 
they are important 
so all we
are now is 
an echo canyon 
repeating back to 
them what they 
have just said 
and nothing more 

I hear the familiar
growl of steel against 
street beneath my window 
it reminds me of 
irritating thoughts which remain 
scratching and clawing attention 
the plow rumbles relentlessly 
like what I’d imagine 
bad decisions would do 
or even an avalanche 
of stone cold regret 
plows have a purpose 
I suppose clearing way
from things done before 
much like I imagine 
forgiving and forgetting do