It's a place that illuminates the freest forms of me

A few pumps on my pedals, turns of my handles, and I'm already there

Tall palms twirled in lights line the way to my imagination

Tiny bells ding against the glass door as I glide inside

Freshly roasted beans percolate through anticipation to perfection

Burlap coffee sacks hang as window shades

Handiwork of local artists accents...

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It's morning again
                            and
                                   I'm trapped in.

Out of bed
                 but
                       into the same lie I roll.

I have no alibi
                       for
                            committing the sin

of deep-diving
                       into
                             this "cozy" 9-to-5.

"Take a ri...

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