Coffee Riff #1
by Bruce E. Stoker 2003

At the crack of dawn, the pot flips on,
My coffee starts to drip.
Hope that first hot cup is strong enough–
With two hands I take a sip.

A caffeine flood jumpstarts my blood,
My mind begins to race.
The fog I had when I awoke
Is gone without a trace.

Coffee Riff #2
by Bruce E. Stoker 2003

At six-fifteen I drink cup one
From mismatched Corningware.
My day starts right, I’m on my way,
But it barely gets me there.

At seven-ten I need cup two.
It comes in Styrofoam.
It’s hot and dark and perks me up;
But it’s not as good as home.

By eight-o-one I pour cup three
Into my favorite mug.
It’s nearly clear and barely warm
But I have to take a slug.

By eight-thirty I’ve drained cup four,
Which came from a machine.
It tastes just like old instant soup,
But at least it has caffeine.