Today's prompt is to write a poem exploring the taste of something. Immediately I thought - coffee.
So it has to be maybe the most memorable coffee I ever had - as part of a breakfast, in Venice. Maybe my most vivid memory of the whole trip! It was Belissimo!
Breakfast in Venice
The coffee pours
like tar:
thick black night
liquefied
as antidote
to morning.
Tastes like treacle,
smoke and bitter.
Woody deep, rich
as a Vivaldi suite.
Possibility fuel,
laced with intent.
Then the cornetti -
or croissants
with apricot jam
globed at their centres -
appear.
What a surprise!
No mere marmalade
but la dolce vita
sugar-spun, pastrified;
the Italian sun
ripening our tongues.
Breakfast, belissimo!
a Byzantine bravo.
The day to come
we're certain,
a feast.
like tar:
thick black night
liquefied
as antidote
to morning.
Tastes like treacle,
smoke and bitter.
Woody deep, rich
as a Vivaldi suite.
Possibility fuel,
laced with intent.
Then the cornetti -
or croissants
with apricot jam
globed at their centres -
appear.
What a surprise!
No mere marmalade
but la dolce vita
sugar-spun, pastrified;
the Italian sun
ripening our tongues.
Breakfast, belissimo!
a Byzantine bravo.
The day to come
we're certain,
a feast.
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