Poem of the Week: 1.26.23

"Chagaccino" by Ricky Novaes de Oliveira

CHAGACCINO

by Ricky Novaes de Oliveira

January morning I’ve stopped 
being sad! about trashcan triflers 
taking what they can, I don’t wait 
to let you down, I get a jump on jitters 

My coffee told me I can do better 
than best, never enough, like flossing:
I bled as the doc chiseled away
my fillings. What I wait for is a day

to decompose, mush room 
pretending meat: stumps and sap
sustenance, patience, and a good defense
against the dirt. As if there’s any gold left 

after the rush, I wait I want I grind it
’s easier in smaller chunks

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Thanks for reading the Poem of the Week!

I’m not a habitual caffeine drinker. I treat coffee like other vices: ingest when I need to adjust to life’s latest bull. Some weeks more than others. Last week being one of those, I found myself blinking out a café window as I watched Saturday drive by and my bean water disappear.

“Chagaccino” is a poem about trying. It tries to find a normal form (4-line stanzas) and squanders it in grammar and length (couplet ending). It has the shape of a sonnet (14 lines) but it doesn’t try to rhyme. It’s trying to tell the truth and lying about the truths I tell myself. Like I said, coffee gets me all jumbled up.

Is there a morale here? I’m getting tired of moralistic writing. I need more art that complains! That feeds itself on being fed up! That eats itself and still wants more!

This is devolving into a therapy session, and neither of us get paid enough for all that. So, here: a writing prompt: “You are what you eat.” Write about the last thing you consumed and imagine you became it or it became you. Write until you’re full or until you’re hungry again.

Sipsearingly, Ricky