During these days of lockdown and social distancing, I have clearly missed the social interaction and conversational stimulation flowing from coffee time at my favourite coffee haunt, Il Piccolo. My morning routine involves a protracted period of writing, reading and responding in my writing space, and then round about eleven o'clock, I venture out into the day for coffee. They say that if a writer/poet is not out there, they will never be out there...
|My coffee time enjoyed at Il Piccolo|
When I leave home I take a book to read, my writer's notebook, a stack of pens and with my cappuccino beside me, I listen, observe, engage and then take a moment to surrender to my thoughts. I enjoy being among friends and familiarity. I generally sit at the back of the cafe in order to better observe the passing parade. It's also close to the kitchen and I get to talk to my friend, the chef.
Quite a number of my poems have sprung to life in this place. I've always been comfortable writing in different locations.
Well, all that's changed of late. Circumstances have required me to better acquaint myself with our home based coffee machine, and I must say our relationship is going along quite smoothly. Almost flourishing.The first thing I did was learn to operate it. Up until this time, we had been strangers.
|My 'home-made' cappuccino and sweet ravioli I made to enjoy la dolce vita.|
It doesn't mean I dont miss going out for coffee, oh no. It just means I've been able to adapt.
I found John Asgard's poem, Coffee in Heaven, nestled in one of my collected poetry books, The Everyday Poet, edited by Deborah Alma and thought it would fit aptly with the coffee theme of my post.
Coffee in Heaven
You'll be greeted
by a nice cup of coffee
when you get to heaven
and strains of angelic harmony.
But wouldn't you be devastated
if they only serve decaffeinated
while from the percolators of hell
your soul is assaulted by
Satan's fresh espresso smell?