She picks up coffee at a little neighborhood cafe

Starbucks too oppressively corporate

She pours on the milk and multiple sugars

Her face lights up as she tells the cashier, “Have a nice day.”

Like a candle, she imparts her light to those nearby

A routine prayer passes between her lips

Before she starts up her gas-electric hybrid Accord

And with a whisper she starts to fly.

But not before letting the elderly Polish woman go ahead

She’s not always this obsequiously polite

Truth be told, sometimes the sweetness sticks in her mouth

Like the juice of a cherry popsicle, syrupy and red.

One day the repressed rage and hidden discontent will surface

And she will make the nearest man miserable

Be it husband, father, brother, or lover

And will leave him feeling confused and nervous.


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  1. #1 by malcolmjames on November 16, 2008 - 10:00 pm

    She worries that someone’s watching, and someone is. I particularly like the image of the cherry syrup.

  2. #2 by purgethewords on November 17, 2008 - 7:34 am

    I thought the poem was excellent. I also listened to you tell it. But I was wondering…what in the world was that noise after you say how her discontent will surface? I mean, you paused for a long time.
    I was listening to you, completely engaged, then BAM! It made me laugh like a 4th grade boy.

    But, beautiful poem. It hit close to home for me.

  3. #3 by asad123 on November 17, 2008 - 8:15 am

    The reason why I paused there was because I was reciting the poem from memory and it took me a while to remember what the next line was.

  4. #4 by junaid rahman on November 17, 2008 - 1:21 pm

    that was an awesome poem man. hey check out my new blog and feel free to post your comments. junaidrahman.blogspot.com
    hope all is well.

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