POEM OF THE DAY
CAFÉ NOIR for Miss Pam
Drink strong black coffee
until you can see the spider
in the cup.
Take small sips from the demitasse;
taste burnt sugar,
bitter almonds,
rose petals,
cardamom,
clove,
the attar of earth and blood.
Close your eyes.
Another sip.
Another.
Hold it.
Hold the spider
in your mouth.
He will dance
and prick the tongue
with the tang
of this muddy milt
brewed
from that first handful of dirt
banging
on your coffin lid.
The bittersweet tincture
of this rare earth
is the stuff that dreams are made on.
You will bring forth monsters
Beautiful monsters.
You are in the black.
The taste is on your tongue.
Write.
Dana Pattillo
(PoD 51)
8:34:13 AM 
|
