True Confessions: When I’m High

           True confessions: When I’m High

 You all know how one just loves one’s morning cup of coffee!  

 When I’m high,

And morning cuppa’s done the trick,

Slow-ish thyroid smart and quickened,

Then I start;

Choices clear, mind too,

Arms, legs, body knowing

What to do

And even how to do it.

‘High’ sounds utterly,

So totally, so wholly, awfully

So negative.

(Forgive the ‘so’ dear reader, dear.

Its hyperbolic overkill so clearly

The result of coffee).

 

Back to diplomatic understatement:

When I’m high and un-befuddled,

Elevated in an un-bemuddled way,

In optimal condition where

I share in

Energies that pick and choose

So’s not to lose a time so prime.

 

And yet, the wonder is,

The mind, which picks and clicks,

Multi-tasking, seeding shortcuts,

Riotous new recipes,

Old elements, new mergers.

Even quiet-less, no-fuss ideas

From made-up phrases that proliferate.

Remembering,  selecting, nominating:

High’s amazing!

And it only takes a cup of coffee to a-raise it.

Thus I praise it!

 

In conclusion:

If there’s been collusion between you and me,

And on some level you agree

I’ve reached the goal of vers-itry,

And these one hundred ninety

Really odd, God given words were worth it,

Then it’s worth, been worth the birth pains and the plod.

  True Confessions: When I’m High 3.12.2018 A Sense of The Ridiculous II; Coffee Book II; Arlene Corwin

 

 

 

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