15 September 2013

Coffee Recess

















It may be only moments after actors left the stage 
tho’ in this case less dramatic than the thespian’s 
way of playing it; we are relaxed for a coffee chat 
and there’s no agendas, not yet anyway.  

All early morning starts are buggers you complain 
there’s no point trying to re-knead it; the rest gets 
no chance to rise properly before the day’s ovens 
already at temperature and baking it. 

Good analogy - so where did we go wrong, was it 
hitting the sack too early? Yawning your head off 
suggests a lapsed-beyond-repeal attention span 
and we know comatose chat is rarely two-way. 

But the evening’s TV diversion wasn’t really up to 
scratch was it, not that I’m addicted to anything in 
it but live Rugby and you’re in a two-way blind as 
whether to watch Netflix or FoxHD programs. 

So you wander off to bed bored and sleep like a 
log before 8 pm don’t you, waking only later as I 
arrive, mumble platitudes about nothing, roll on 
your back and snore sonorously. 

Yet I see the energy you wake up with and cringe, 
how in the name of perfidy do you do it? Its a feral 
thing isn’t it? You have never accepted relevance 
of domesticity and scheduled lying-in-bed. 

That has a ring to it, though in truth the sack’s an 
impressive spot for a bit of sport, n’ a dawn romp 
takes me fancy more’n eclectic debate on who’s 
turn it is to make the coffee. Waddya say?

Here’s your cup sport, so relax, enjoy the break! 
© 12 September 2013, I. D. Carswell