A Cup of Coffee
It was just a cup of coffee at a coffeehouse. I paid a trivial amount to be amidst humanity. It was a reminder that all the demons in my head can be subdued. Even if not, there is a likelihood that someone in that community has questioned reality from time to time. We will not necessarily win against unreality, but more certain than that, we will lose to mortality. So, drink up for now, even if it isn’t intoxicating.
Mist
Within the mist of the world,
my own mist of being,
as rain drops cling
to tips of branches.
Reluctant to let go
that ill-defined resignation,
as far hills chill my limbs,
that reluctance again!
This time inside my bones,
the knowledge I was never
the man I thought I was,
merely slate, I was,
and now, erased.
But!
I am glad to be empty –
to hold nothing,
and to have nothing,
withheld.
Bioinfo
Koon Woon is a lifelong learner and he is an mfa poetry student at the University of New Orleans. He is also the publisher of Goldfish Press.
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