Coffee

My mother made the best coffee
sweet and full
it took me years to figure out how she did it, a good amount of milk and two sugars.
the magic of youth fades and gives way to the facts of adulthood
all your heroes become human.
but in every uncovering the reality comes through, bringing with it its own we-all-have-a-place beauty and bloom
we are cogs turning on the ground
we are pieces moving around

The light in the kitchen was always peaceful, yellow curtains and sticky surfaces from where Jeremy had half of pastries.
the grill was aways full of bacon fat
one day a chicken walked in
I think my mother saw it as a sign.

I came across a man walking his dog whilst practicing his flows
stood tall as the dog defecated
let an ocean of words tumble out of his mouth
bits of popular song mixed with pieces of his poems
stone serious and bold
dogs not bothered though