Espresso

12/30/2012

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Rita M. noted this poem as inspiration.

Espresso, by Tomas Transtromer
 
Black coffee at sidewalk cafes

with chairs and tables like gaudy insects.
 
It is a precious sip we intercept

filled with the same stength as Yes and No.
 
It is fetched out of gloomy kitchens

and looks into the sun without blinking.
 
In daylight a dot of wholesome black

quickly drained by the wan patron...
 
Like those black drops of profundity

sometimes absorbed by the soul
 
That give us a healthy push: Go!

The courage to open our eyes.

 
 
My electric burner glows orange

A small sun against black.
 
Since I live in other places 

and previous times
 
Africa 1968 me

Frederick Douglas grit

To be free 1818-1895
 
the orange comfort to cook

In my warm house

Not over wood fires

On damp dirt floors

Makes me oh so happy.