The Dream in Your Cup

What do you need,

As the coffee slips

Easily down your throat,

The rich, morning smell

Promising to carry you away

With a subtle blend

Of subliminal hot spots,

The suggestion

Of a different life,

Lived by someone else.

Finely milled, whole beans

That bring

Aspirational flavour

For the down at heel

Flat packers

Who fly steerage.

The kind who play hard

On Saturday nights.

East end gigolos,

Who never quite

Make it up West,

But struts their stuff

In backwaters,

Where they can

Synchronise their swim

Against the tide,

Without ever riding

The waves

With the big boys,

For fear of

Catching a crab.

Do you know

What makes you happy

And how to make

All that you can of the day?

Don’t rush the answer,

Take it easy

And think about it.

What brings a smile

To your face?

That warm feeling,

The one that grows

Up from your stomach,

Into your chest

And spreads through

Your whole body,

Like hot chocolate,

Thick and velvety.

The smile,

That becomes as wide

As your face,

With more teeth,

Than space.

Is it the Mocha?

Can the hype

Be real?

Tell me,

How do you feel

When the day is done,

What did you do

To make you feel good

About yourself?

What is that like?

Can you bottle it?

Give it away?

Sell it as fresh,

Instantly.

Rich tasting, vacuum sealed,

Happiness,

Guaranteed satisfaction,

Free at the point of delivery,

For you and for me.

Try it and you might see

It’s not the coffee

But the dream,

Realised.

The life, prised from

The back of a cereal bar,

Torn into pieces,

Thrown into the air

Like confetti,

And made real.

How does that feel?

Don’t think it.

Do it.

You know it makes sense.