Breakfast Conversation Poem by Frank Witte

Suppose I would swim across the Atlantic
and tiger my way through Virginia's antics,
West-Virginia and Ohio's romantics
I will pass
with a glass
on my head,
without a stop
or spilling a drop,
keeping a fresh tulip between my teeth,
like a broken sword in a silken sheath.
Could that earn me an invitation
to, say, a cappucino in elation
and maybe throw a few towels in
you pretty little persian Djinn.

You're so silly, dear!
And the coffee here?
Anything to speak of it isn't.
I drink a beaker of instant
every morning instead of tea.
So that should tell
you something, well,
how much I know about coffee!
I hope you are having a really good week.
Thanks for poems and songs you crazy geek!