Morning Blues


Before it used to be the cooing of the roasters
but now it’s the chiming of my mobile alarm
that jerks me off the silky caress of my mattress
bringing to abrupt climax my dreamy romance in sleepy climes

I pull out reluctantly,
wishing dawn could be delayed
so I can bask some more
in the ecstasy of my bed’s embrace

My boss’ stern face surfaces,
despite the dimness in my unlit room
I see it clearly in my lit mind
his amplified baritone resonates fiercely
his scolding and threatening of dismissal
should I be late a second to work again

Oh Lord how I hate Monday mornings

I get to work a few minutes early
all thanks to not having breakfast
as I stroll into my cubicle,
I say a polite ‘good morning’ to my colleagues
my boss sees me from the other end
and takes a swift look into his wristwatch
the expression on his face says it all

I might not be this lucky next time

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I fire it up
and watch it burn slowly
like Moses before the burning bush
Then I kiss its papery mouth
sucking its air through my larynx
into the base of my belly
before exhaling orally
As it burns into me
my consciousness becomes hazy
or am I crazy?
I take another sip
let go of myself into its trips
Feels like I’m ascending
climbing to the climax
of Kilimanjaro’s height


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