Coffee Ballad #1

Beneath the blessing of cold white electric stars
we drink fermented rice wine
and listen to a lonely violin
Around us voices of the daily tortured mourn the death of hours passed
the strain of living
the pain of needing breath
"Happiness is a myth" they all think but dare not say
as Mozart mingle with the groan of the cappuccino machine
the slow drip of black blood freshly stirred from flesh
two sugars and one dollop of cream
poured down our throats, hot
that our lives be redeemed

09 September 2003, Tuesday, 22:51 PM

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