Tag: coffee

Poetry at the Post-Austin: Coffee #3-Cenote & “Your Invitation to a Modest Breakfast”

“Your Invitation to a Modest Breakfast” by Hannah Gamble

Listen. Come over: the cold has already eaten
the summer.

Cold hadn’t even nibbled at summer in Austin, Texas when I stopped by Cenote for a latte. I’d been trying to stick to breakfast teas but the week had been stressful. I just needed a cup of something stronger.

Cenote East Austin, TX
Cenote
East Austin, TX

Cenote is close by but parking can be a challenge. It was too sunny and hot to linger on one of the picnic tables outside yet sitting inside can be a bit jarring if you are not able to find a seat away from the door or bar. Not always an ideal place to set up your laptop and work, its friendliness and killer breakfast tacos for $3.50 (on non-GMO corn tortillas) make up for the lack of comfortable space. Plus, there is a juice bar on site.

Hannah Gamble’s poem seemed to fit my mood last week. On one hand, it was a week of writerly events like the The One Page Salon and food-filled evenings with friends but also one of anxiety and a sense of life crashing in. It was one of those weeks when I needed “another pair of ears.”

I can’t tell if I’m hearing wind chimes
or some gray woman with failing arms
dropping a pan full of onions and potatoes.

Poetry at the Post-Austin: Coffee #1

Prose Poem (“The morning coffee.”)
BY RON PADGETT

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
world.

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