Prior to a couple of weeks ago, I only drank coffee on interval and race days. I hoped to use the drug to my advantage rather than become dependent on its daily addiction. A month ago, one good case of jet lag (combined with the first week of the semester) ended that nonsense and has thrust me down the path of the morning coffee, the cuppa joe, the daily java.
I’ve never been happier.
In high school, one poetry class or another taught me that an ode is something you write when you feel passionate. It’s something born from the entangling, obsessive throws of love, a result of the intersection of emotion and object. I can think of no other substance that deserves such poetry.
So here she is, folks, an Ode to Coffee:
Good morning, beautiful.
An acquired taste, now I see the light,
Your rich morning glory, proud and dutiful,
Gives me reason to survive this darkened night.
Dark? Or Medium? Either is fine by me,
Lost I’m not in this or that bean,
I just know I want you more than tea.
Only happiness from you will I glean.
Percolate, pour over, press or drip,
Campfire, aero, espresso or French,
Only instant is the one I’ll skip,
Otherwise my thirst any form will quench.
“Real men drink their coffee black,”
My Grandpa bellowed to me.
From then, at sixteen, to milk I never ran back.
Except for one cappuccino. Or two. Or three.
The hipsters, with their mustachy snobbery,
Claim to love most my chosen sip,
Derived from disingenuous trendy robbery,
In the name of would-be, must-be hip.
My better, as an athlete, pouring in my mug,
The steaming, churning, potion that will
Double as a performance enhancing drug.
With you, the race I will kill.
Alertness, speed, clear thoughts and wit,
Reduced heart disease, stroke and, well, death.
The benefits include keeping you fit,
And are well worth the abrupt stingy breath.
But the best of all these deserving a “whoop!”
Ladies won’t admit but approve of nonetheless,
Is a daily coffee brings a daily poop.
Another reason to use that French press.
Forever I could write of my love for your drink,
But alas I must attend my other passion, ski,
Don’t for a moment dare you think,
That without you I could ever truly be me.
May everyday be improved by your brew,
Every morning, every jetlag, every test,
Know that I will always turn to you,
Together, we will be the best.