My Writing, Ramblings

Coffee Grounds and Cheesecakes

A new month brings new poetry! This one is a bit sillier: I came up with the concept during a writing session with the RWW summer residency last August. During a course on magical realism in poetry, I let myself have a little fun and ended up with this new poem. Have a look and revel in the silliness!


Coffee Grounds and Cheesecakes

Dishes hiss together, forks

scratching on knives as I slide

their silver bodies into the sink;


and sink they do, like my little helpers

to the bottom of the bowl full

of hot water that seeps into


my hands and tears my skin

pore by pore

knuckle by knuckle.


I stop scrubbing and wipe my hands,

gingerly, on my apron, as I am called,

to the front


to craft a cinnamon dulce latte.

I jump out of the backroom but halt

when I hear a metallic clink. I turn.


It’s the fork and the knife, down on

the floor, and my face breaks

into a smile as I see that they’ve grown legs,


metallic arms and legs, shimmering in the 

glowing cafe light, and as Momma Mia

howls through the cafe, they start to dance


Irish jigs that make me cackle.

I forget the cinnamon as I see an extra dish

that a customer has abandoned on his


empty table.

My hips swing through the doors, bringing me

into the lobby,


and the fork, bless him,

and the knife, bless her,

they follow me and help me gather plates.


Coffee grinds and cheesecakes permeate the air,

and I know

this precious cutlery


can smell it all.

I wonder why they’ve come to visit me

here, of all places.


Don’t they know I’m busy?

Don’t they know I’m scared?

Their shining hands reach up to me,


as if to say, 

We know.

That’s why we’ve come.


Photo by Toa Heftiba on Unsplash