Determined to save your life,
you pick up where you left off,
before you were interrupted,
by the merely mundane motions
of a rather pedestrian life,
filled with soccer games ( known as
futbol in the real world),
ballet practice, Capoeira, Pilates, tennis,
and The noblesse oblige of a mortgage
which you strapped to your back
like a day pack,
without even thinking twice
about it.
Now that you've recovered from
what feels like a thirty year hangover,
you stumble down the stairs
of a house which you've grown out of,
half-numb, make your way to the kitchen,
grind your freshly roasted Gautemalan Antigua
beans in a Conical burr grinder,
with its whir, whir, whir,
carefully scooping out just enough
of the fine black dust to tamp
it, with your bamboo handled tamper,
ever so firm and gentle in your motions,
pat, pat, pat. . . next lifting
the basket with the precision of a practiced surgeon,
you twist the basket to the right, fifteen degrees
and depress the button which ignites the
steam to shoot through the beans at exactly
two-hundred and thirty-five p.s.i. .
Ah. . .you are simultaneously at rest
and stimulated by the first
whiff of cafe, next the crema forms at the
top of your porcelain demitasse,
which traveled all the way from Ho Chi Minh City
for just this moment, when you
decide, to cash it all in, no matter what comes,
and obtain a ticket to Brasil, where you can
buy a condo for less than the price
of a Lexus and begin the long anticipated
run, up to the Copa Mundial in 2014.
You choose to ignore the sirens of reason,
and instead, give heed to this high calling,
which so many ignore with due diligence,
attempting to strangle such wild-eyed ambitions,
as they sit in their vehicles in what looks like
a parking lot, but is a highway leading
nowhere very important.
You follow your red balloon,
sailing with such grace and ease,
wherever it may fly,
and leave the rest
holding their course for a day
which may never arrive.
-C.A. McCoy
(c) 2012
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