An ode to Joe
In the morning when I wake up you are the first thought that crosses my groggy barely functioning mind. With your ever so gentle nudge your infatuating scent fills my room and some how manages to pull me from the confines of my warm comfortable bed and prepares me for yet another day. The way that you feel on my lips and how you can engulf me in your warmth from head to toe in just one sip still amazes me after all these years.
You are the reason that I have made it through oh so many blurred filled days giving me that extra little oomph to push on through when my energy is all but none existent and for that I am eternally grateful my beloved Joe. I know some people want to gussy you all up and make you into something you were never meant to be but not me, I just want you tall, dark and especially sweet which really isn't asking all that much I would think.
Never will I pick you up from another gas station Joe, it just wasn't meant to be. The sign claims that you are made fresh daily but I know the score. I know that the clerk ever so slyly fails to mention exactly how often or what part of the day you have been made so that when I take my first sip you send a shock coercing through my body. I know indeed you could eat through any given Styrofoam cup in a mere second. Your black murky sludge is like turpentine the moment it hits my tongue causing me to wither and gage. Slowly you trudge down my throat. Slowly, oh so slowly I know that you are eating away through my stomach and will not stop until you sludge is pumping, ever so quickly pumping through my veins. I'm sorry Joe, but I will never buy another cup of coffee from the corner store.
You are the reason that I have made it through oh so many blurred filled days giving me that extra little oomph to push on through when my energy is all but none existent and for that I am eternally grateful my beloved Joe. I know some people want to gussy you all up and make you into something you were never meant to be but not me, I just want you tall, dark and especially sweet which really isn't asking all that much I would think.
Never will I pick you up from another gas station Joe, it just wasn't meant to be. The sign claims that you are made fresh daily but I know the score. I know that the clerk ever so slyly fails to mention exactly how often or what part of the day you have been made so that when I take my first sip you send a shock coercing through my body. I know indeed you could eat through any given Styrofoam cup in a mere second. Your black murky sludge is like turpentine the moment it hits my tongue causing me to wither and gage. Slowly you trudge down my throat. Slowly, oh so slowly I know that you are eating away through my stomach and will not stop until you sludge is pumping, ever so quickly pumping through my veins. I'm sorry Joe, but I will never buy another cup of coffee from the corner store.