Another Cup O’ Joe And the night so very dark, makes the harsh, bright fluorescent light jarring to the senses. Neon blue pulsates “Open All Night”, a refugee camp for the displaced souls. in need of an endless cup o’ joe. Clattering, clinking sounds of silverware and plates filter from the kitchen. A blue-dressed waitress with unseeing eyes, makes rounds, ministering hot black liquid to empty cups. Smoke from another cigarette curls around trembling fingers absently tapping against an ashtray-full of butts. A nodding head, a brief smile, required gestures for a refilled cup. For it’s the coffee that keeps the eyes from sleep and the dreams at bay. Another cup o’ joe.
Reason for writing:
I wrote this poem at a time when I suffered insomnnia. I discovered I was avoiding dreams and feeling hopeless. Writing this helped me confront that feeling and not to avoid hopelessness.
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