Oh Sweet Arab Sauce! (Being the Second Part of the Coffee Cantata)

Oilslick of the brain’s engine
Who left your paper cave
With its cleverly emblazoned sleeve
On every curve of my long commute
Be quicksilver to my hair of the dog Monday
Let your groundsy bottom make my ethic
Bottomless as Oprah’s riches
Everlasting as a Mercedes Benz
Invert my work and play, tighten your fist
Around my pen, inscribe the progress report.


Dripolated from the appliance’s teat
When I lay lip thirstily to you
Invert the gravity of attrition
Smash the normative rhythms
Of Owl and Songbird

However I might complain about it later
Do for me oh sweet Arab sauce
What I shuddering asked you not to
Last night in bluish glow of nightstand clock
Set slumber aflame in a sappy bonfire
Of glorious crackling workaday cheer
Be my Christmas on eternal loop
Except a Christmas of the cubicle
It is quieter here my sweet-tongued genie
Now that I have arrived from the drive-thu
Without my former troubles, galvanized awake.

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , by A. Miller. Bookmark the permalink.

About A. Miller

ALEX MILLER JR. is a staff writer for The Curator and the co-author of A Bow From My Shadow, a collection of poems written in dialogue with Luke Irwin. His essays and poems have appeared in The Conversation, Transpositions, Pif, The Curator, The Denver Syntax, Lake Effect, and ken*again. He is an adjunct professor of Western literature at Gordon College in Wenham, Mass., and high school English and Rhetoric teacher. He lives in Beverly, Mass. You can follow him on Twitter: @miller_jr.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s