Coffee Mat Stains Poem by Mark Heathcote

May we spill the coffee and grind the beans
taste a snippet of moonlight as it creams
as love has us pampering to its dreams
let's not forget the burns and quarantines.

Loves neither here nor there if we don't care
a bolting mare will break her bridle, soon as-
mended - she'll upend tables full of chinaware
just so you too are aware, she has wrath.

Let us laugh till we cry and die-bleeding?
Such is love, such is passion if it's worth our salt.
Never let it be said in ways misleading,
or else there'll be a thunderbolt.

That a man or a woman isn't equal
as many great opposites do attract
and together, therefore, are made coequal
like coffee mat stains, we're the artifact.