Our daily habits – honorable and dishonorable, noble and ignoble, vital and vile – are revelatory. Our sense of self is fashioned partially by what we employ to crank us up in order to charge through every day, or stated otherwise, what vices we partake of and what substances we are addicted to using.
Cup of JoeThere's nothing like a cup of joe,when the morning's grey and grim and slow,when the streets collide with the world outside,when litter lies where lilies grow.Just drink that smoking cup of blackand feel your feelings surging back.Plus, spill a drop and a coffee shopwill sprout up from a sidewalk crack!
…Get me a cappuccino,with toasties,flavored in Jalapeno.”“Anything special for the cappuccino?”He asked, the waiter chivalrous.“Follow the ideal doing,grind the beans just before brewing.Use spring water,for softened water,makes a horror.A parley perfect,between the coffee,and the milk,with some, brown sugar thick.” (Poem: An apology of a coffee lunatic, Book: Ginger and Honey)