Two Poems from Night Coffee — page 2
NIGHT COFFEE [5]
excelsa, liberica, racemosa
the Queen of Beans and me are rooted
in the same Africa, shade-grown, generations
back/a common blackness and pungent
aroma, an earthy warmth that attracts
no wonder it is treated like gold in places
where it's less plentiful. no wonder the bars that
sell it, and the rooms that specialize proliferate.
no wonder rituals have evolved around it
ask Cagliastro. weavers of spells cast it to
complement meals, before or after- both,
relaxing aggressions, soothing fears,
summoning spirits, casting deeply mythic
here-and-now enjoyment/this strangely delicious fruit of slavery
the charm works through the nose as well
as the tongue. the body becomes alert
even as it eases into a softer posture. the
eyes glisten as talk and remembrance flows
excelsa, liberica, racemosa