Taste of real life, bagels and chocolate

Another kitchen morning.
Warm cinnamon,
steaming arrabica
and shower-pricked skin.
No disguising half-caught sleep,
the fractured dreams
and black-rimmed nightmares.

Jaded,
taking stock
of spilled cupboards
emptying out their contents
of collected life
put on hold.

Call the roll:
Husbands?
One..
but not for long.
Would be lovers?
Two…
So different!
Can’t choose,
both taste so good….
at least in cyber space.

Feeling guilty?
Yes…
and not even Catholic!
Work?
shed-loads,
with aspirin
and Zantac poppers.

Christ is that the time!

God this bagel’s good!
Orgasmic, oven-ready spice
for confused tongues.
Consequence?
Just crumbs lying on my table,
soon swept away.
 
So are you free tonight
To warm my bed?
Life could be as simple
as eating bagels
with a lazy, Calico cat.….

But there’s always
chocolate in the office
to sweeten the pill
of grinding work;
the soothing tropical fish,
and that oh so familiar
drip, drip, drip
of useless,
cavitied philosophy
as I pull yet another
wisdom tooth.