cup
A big mason jar
is my coffee pot and cup.
Mugs just aren’t enough.
Seriously. I’m not hung over. I just need that pot o coffee to get me going every day.
It’s strong and pungent and cooled slightly with milk. But for real, am I really going to use some random souvenir, or matching
kitchen mug and refill four times between starting the shower and finding my keys? I don’t think so.
And most days it’s only me drinking it, so I might as well drink it (all) from the jar I brew it into.
My dog is on half decaf, because he got a little testy at day camp. :-\
One day last week I was running late, so I put the lid on and brought it on my commute. After a few minutes, I hear that nostalgic
vacuum sealing, sucking in, metal clink, and sure enough, it was “self sealing”.
How do you spell the sound of a “new” jar of hot, fresh coffee popping opening?
I already know how it tastes. Mmmm.
Missed Connections are filled with good, bad and hot-n-fresh-haiku. Did you write one? Did you find one? Before you lose yourself to the caffeinated bliss, email the link to Lovelorn Poets. We’ll preserve those sensually-scented-syllables for all eternity.
