Black Coffee

Prose poem.

Black Coffee

By Kelly Brown

 

 

Let's drink black coffee in the moonlight, in the apartment room

One more time again

Brewing our espresso at midnight, while the world sleeps in their

Television-lit bedrooms

Beams gloss the bodies that lay in silence

With broken dreams on their doorsteps

But, they push through anyhow

They can make it---can't you?

 

 

Let's drink black coffee in the mornings

Opening our eyes a few hours late

We were up all night singing songs of

Love and hate and Stella Dora cookies and vegans and crazy grandmas

Holding each other in our arms and blinking just to stay awake

Just to tell those stories from yesterday

Remember the homemade jokes about those old men on the radio?

On the TV screen?

At the Super K?

In our own humble way, we were comedians

Ha Ha Ha!

Laughing precariously, much too loudly, nibbling on cookies and pretzels in

Bed

Your bed

Our bed

Bed crumbs sleeping peacefully beneath our sheets

Underneath our heads

Where is your headboard?

Is it only air tonight?

 

 

No diamonds grace my fingers tonight

But, that's okay

No drugs in my book bags

But, my drinking escalates

No money in my pockets

But, I have nothing to buy

Except for love and smiles

And laughter and

Myself

And your love and smiles

Your laughter and

You

I ask you repeatedly what had happened to make you so sad

And why are you so sad?

 

 

Let's drink black coffee when we go to all the diners of the world

All the food we eat

From Red Bank to New York City

For they ARE the world

Where we eat together in silence most of the time

I see you blink quite often in the company of food workers

Or is it in the company of anyone who hates black coffee?

Your anxiety starts to twitch when the waitress nears and looks at your face

You didn't shave this morning, did you?

Are you nervous, darling?

Do you need a hug?

Do you trust me enough to say "I love you"?

And do you mean it when you do?

 

You seem somehow discomforted whenever you leave your room for

Another day’s beginning

Open to interpretation

Another let down

Another red light on the highway

Another person ahead of you to say you aren't good enough

You aren't fast enough

You aren't rich enough

You aren't sane enough

You aren’t tall enough

You aren't smart enough

You aren't normal enough

You aren't them enough

 

 

Let's drink black coffee whenever we're alone, when it's all alright and no one is

Ever home to disturb our peace

But us, ourselves, each other, you and I alone in the twilight

We’ll have our own party

When we're on the couch shouting declarations

Of love and sex and future spawns

And condos and houses and bed sheets and iPods and celebrities and Billy Joel and sex on the beach martinis and jackets and ties and suits and careers and cars and memories and professors and whirlwinds and how we used to smell and how we used to laugh and how we used to jump off diving boards in summer time into lakes and oceans and how we always used to eat the same store-bought candies from those same company-owned stores that are still here, but aren't really here.

Nerds and Reese's Pieces on the floor.

They are broken now

Aren’t I?

Aren’t you?

 

 

 

 

The electric connection shakes us

In those moments, it is okay

And we feel as though

YES!

It WILL all be okay

You are my only happiness, aren't you?

I am your only happiness, aren't I?

 

 

Or when we’re laying in your tattered bed, gripping tightly to the feeling, smiling the largest grins the

World has ever seen

When we go to the supermarket and I giggle internally at your fast-paced walk

Nervous energy

You look to the floor most times, why don’t you look in front of you?

Why do you face the ground and not the sky?

Pacing down the aisles, too much time spent in the daylight for your liking, for your mind to handle

The sight of others

Looking for food to shed body fat, to cleanse your aura, a vegetable fasting

But, you get the chicken patties, the ones fried in grease and oil

The stench on your breath extra long-lasting!

In the car, when we drive around Asbury in an aimless fashion (only you can drive, an accident!)

Wishing you had somewhere to go, but you don't seem to want to open the door

To say hello to passer bys or strangers or friends or family

Too much wind today, too cold, too much humidity in the air

Too many people walking down the streets

They have places to go, they have people to see

Don't they?

Don’t you?

 

 

There are times in which I trigger those pleasant childhood memories

Don't I bring back to you those smells and sights from long ago?

LATCHKEY DAYCARE CENTER

Where your mom would pick you up and you would get excited

To see her smile

To see her love

To feel the "I love you" in her voice

And, yes, I smile at your stories, wishing I knew the truth about what happened that day

And those nostalgic false "I love yous”

In the days before you became a societal orphan

Your mother doesn't call you now

She doesn't say "I love you" anymore (look at what you've done), does she?

Your dad doesn't care where you sleep at night, does he?

He won't ask you if you are chilly tonight (the window's open) or if

You did your homework, will he?

Your mom won't say you’ve made a good hit today in Little League, will she?

 

 

Whenever you see something in me you wish you had in you

Some sense of life

Of breathing

Of hope

Of love

Of compassion

Of humanity

You are jealous of how I can buy things and keep them in my closet

For nostalgic purposes, perhaps the only purpose

Of saving memories

Knowing where my home is at night

It is on Timberwood Lane, yes, even if my mother dies

She left it to me

Optimism is the cherished thing

It grants you peace at night when you dream of nightmares

Whenever the Earthquake begins to rattle beneath your sanity and says:

Get out of here!

EVACUATE!

This premises is closed for maintenance.

 

 

 

You think to yourself: I could have been a great man

I could have followed the rules

I could have avoided the white rooms

I could have let her yell and scream when she said she was right (I was all along)

I could have been happy

I could have made peace with myself and my mother

I could have shaved this morning

I could have not yelled that day

I could have said it will all be alright

I could have been good

I could have been normal

I could have been more like them and less like me

I could drink coffee with milk like they do instead of my

Black coffee!

Oh, wretched and bitter black coffee!

Couldn’t I?

Couldn’t you?

 

Reviews

[oneZtwoLLs]

Your poem brought tears to my eyes. It was wonderful. I don't know what else to say. Thank you for sharing.