Tag: coffee

Changing my Routine

Andy's Mug

Everyday when we go to drink our coffee,
My wife and I have our own assigned mugs
That we place in a consistent spot we
Can find before drinking our drugs.

Leading up to our liquid caffeine
In an effort to hinder delay.
We’ve formed a substantial routine
That keeps us on track day to day.

But sometimes my mug is taken
By a guest who’s come to our house.
I’ll feel robbed, like there was a break in,
And look over to my spouse

Who sees my lost and forlorn look.
The corners of my mouth won’t turn up
‘Cause my own guest went and took
A hold of my favorite cup.


Count to Twelve

Let me take a moment and ignore you
Then together we’ll regroup and have a break.
If we’re talking, I can’t guarantee to
Keep on clearly counting sans mistake.

Lets allow conversations to lull
In an instance before we both delve
Into deeper conversations full
Of caffeine after I count to twelve.

Have I done Eight? ‘Cause if I’m off we
Must extend the lull a little longer.
I won’t belate for fear of weakened coffee
But I’ll scoop another scoop and make it stronger.

Before my Children get up

I could go back to sleep, but this silence rests in my open eyes
Slouched and couched I dream of turning the coffee on, to my surprise
I already did that, but it’s two rooms away smelling strongest.
This duration of listening to white noise could be my longest.

I let coffee make slurps in the other room rather than get up
In my final moments of solitude I’ll slowly fill my cup.
Until isolation’s interrupted by a child’s crying
I’ll be sitting on the couch with my feet up calmly denying

that my solitude runs clockwise ’till kids get up and out of bed.
Somedays this spitup covered boppy should stay lodged under my head.