the smell of the roasted beans
awaken the folded memory in my brain
the time when i dipped my poetry in my coffee
hot and strong
like an old bitter song
there ....
at the corner of the 24 hour cafe
"does it ring you a bell?"
the time when i sliced all the stanzas
in to pieces of crumbly tears
glitterly clear
and you just sat with a glass of cold beer
you thought your shadow had ears
you thought it listened to your darkest fear
and the night wind presented her fiercest laughter..
i hope you still remember
or do you need a shinny dagger
to open the worst chapter
of this poetry dipped in my coffee...
