O coffee, brownest of the brown liquors, every morning thou art so happy to meet me. I thank god for the bubbly sound your brewer makes when I plug it in.
I thank you for not getting jealous of your little sister the espresso machine, or the three-way action we have with the foamer.
You are so kind to let me adulter you with milk or sugar or both on a regular basis.
I am forever grateful for the visions you give me three hours after my last cup, when I am overcome with joy and begin to shake ever so slightly while feeling a strange sense of euphoria.
But lo, should I forget to visit you each morning, you exact retribution on me. Your divine hand reaches into my head, crushes my brain and fills my sinuses until I repent and pay proper homage.
Ace, you may have just caused me to switch religions. I may revere other Gods, but what I worship is coffee. Let me know where the prayer meeting is going to be, for I will surely be there, with a steamin’ cuppa Joe in my hand.
O hot, beany broth of satisfaction;
How thine bitter flavor caresses mine tongue.
Thou are great in massive quantities;
Yea, gladly do I fork over $6 to the secretary on the first payday of every month.
And my question…why don’t you ever see this kinda tribute to other drugs? You don’t ever see someone shoot up on heroin and write poetry about it. Or sing a little song about the beauty of smoking crack. Sure, I like my coffee, but you people scare me.
