An Ode to early morning coffee

I await with hope your
scent of smoky complexity
a bellows for my lungs
unbeknownst jet engine power
you reached out
from poorest African jungle
heated by campfire
to give me extra orchestra-
ted breath
which I would never have
otherwise.

You are a dawn tongue twister
a bitter New York Times
crossword
Plethora of sensual punches,
dancing Ali style
curing cancer (say some) and
sluggish confusion.
A marionette for arms, legs
and cranium
just like the magic pills
for Underdog
Resusitated vitals to bio-
rhythmic hullspeed.
Grace and angst
meet my lips a second, third, fourth, fifth.
Not addicted, ha! affording
my simple ritual.