Hit the Coffee; Absorb the Books
There's a romanticism to sitting down in a bookstore with a yet unpaid for book in hand
Seeking out the coziest corner where your Momma won't find you
Not for want of searching or yelled whispers
Cup of coffee in hand as rain hits the glass beside you
There's a romanticism to the whole picture
But then you've burnt your tongue
The books has a bland adventure with a too quick to build airport bookstore plot
And you've got the runs
What a wonderful, perfectly unromantic childhood
No cozy, small town bookstore could satisfy me when I had the biggest and the best of them all
Borders
Two levels to get lost in and a coffee shop in the back to boot
So many places to hide and delay the inevitable trip back home:
hopefully with a new friend to cuddle with
I started drinking coffee when I was 9
Staying up late and reading was my forte
But all I wanted in life was to be my Momma which was a feat that required
Constant caffination and simultaneous education
Didn't hurt that more coffee meant later nights and more books to devour
My passion for reading and coffee simultaneously drowned in the reality of the world
I quickly adopted an existential ideal that unforgivingly fought against my desire to escape
To one of my old, treasured worlds while determined to create a deeper purpose for my existence
My passion was reincarnated when I starved with the need to press every thought that passed
Into stories no other mind could behold and share the wonderous imagination I so dearly missed
Being sucked into at every available, inappropriate opportunity
This need to write quickly reignited my unquenchable thirst for the written word and the need
To know more, always more
Coffee and books, I soon discovered, are not a suitable university diet
The soft literature I once longed to chew softly and tenderly
Were replaced for technical books that required devouring as rapidly as a starved man
So as not to appreciate the taste, but obtain the nutrients
But there are days when I can borrow those choked down terms that took me days to digest
And explain to my mother what is happening to her brain as she ages
And why she can no longer function as she once did though she looks as young as she is
Those are the days when education makes sense and I am more grateful
Than even the tears on my cheeks can express for that early push in my development
To read, to understand, and to open my mind to the wonders that I will never comprhend but,
Good God, I should try with everything that I have