Trumpets cry out from a golden stereo
I feel like a strange cross between a buffalo
And an exhausted rhino dragged by a tornado
Drawn to the hot smell of caffeine and tobacco
My mind returns from the bold indigo vertigo
By a willow tree in the eccentric streets of Chicago
As I take a sip of my double espresso
A see the golden gazing eyes of a crow
He seemed to be a regular to the meadow
And he was quick to go for my elbow
I had a salad with my risotto
Tomato, sweet potato, pistachio
And the soft green flesh of avocado
My little black fix made me glow
Perhaps I could go back to Moscow
Or sit in the picnics of Tokyo
Or the heart of Glasgow.
Wherever I go,
I will know
There will always be an espresso
About the Creator
Chloe Gilholy
Former healthcare worker and lab worker from Oxfordshire. Author of ten books including Drinking Poetry and Game of Mass Destruction. Travelled to over 20 countries.
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