Tomorrow may never come,
may U-turn into yesterday.
Call in sick like the coworker who
hasn’t kept a job more than six months.
Cancel plans like the flake of a friend you keep around
so you have something to distract you
from today.
But if it does, you had best believe
I will put on my shoes — the left one, then
the right — and I will walk to the coffee
shop just three blocks down, and I
will order four shots of espresso doused in water,
(two caffeinated, two decaf) and walk back,
three blocks, while the sun figures out
when the hell to rise.
