Poetry at the Post-Austin: Coffee #1

Prose Poem (“The morning coffee.”)

The morning coffee. I’m not sure why I drink it.

In search of a local place to read & write, I walked over to East 6th Street’s newest spot, Cuvee Coffee. It’s sleek industrial with a welcoming staff.

Maybe it’s the ritual
of the cup, the spoon, the hot water, the milk,

I like the ritual of going somewhere to write. To be social but not.
To read and drift off.
To “meditate. About what?”
That’s just it…. you don’t know where your mind will wander.

It’s the same way in Ron Padgett’s poem, “The Morning Coffee,,” The narrator begins with a statement about drinking coffee but moves to Pappa Bear and Baby Bear, and
the shattering of a cup.

In a way it’s good that Mama Bear isn’t there. Better that she rest
in her grave beyond the garden, unaware of what has happened to the

If you happen to be in Austin, come join me at Cuvee Coffee.

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