In This Poem You’ll Find Some Coffee
Because I once made a list of
Everything I’d like to see in a poem
And it started with coffee.
I knew what I knew
But when I wrote it all out
It didn’t make me feel happy,
Only a little less mysterious.
I haven’t made a list of
Everybody I’d like to
See still alive, but at the top
Would be Mom, Dad, and Auntie.
Auntie told the cousins
That my apartment wasn’t
Big enough to swing a cat in
And that my mother loaded
The dishwasher wrong.
Mom and I liked to drink coffee
Every day around three
Sometimes she’d made a cake and
We’d have that, too.
I can’t remember
If cake is on my list
But it should be.
Dad talked to me in Spanish
He was from Texas and he
Loved to speak Spanish
When I got to sixth grade
I knew madre, padre, casa, and
All the Mexican phrases for hurry up.
I never told any of them
About being drunk in the Village
And ordering espresso when I meant
Cappuccino and how disappointed
I was in the size of the cup and the taste.
I’d love a conversation with Auntie
About the right ways to load a dishwasher.
Draft, Susan Thomsen, 2026*****
I wrote this while reading Human Hours, Catherine Barnett's 2018 collection published by Graywolf Press. I liked the way one of the poems started with the title as the first line, which solves a problem I was worrying about last week. Also, in "Uncertainty Principle at Dawn," the speaker mentioned "a list of obsessions" (I don't want to quote any more; it's so good and I don't want to spoil it), and I thought, "Oh, lists, yes, I have lists galore!"
Robyn Hood Black rounds up the Poetry Friday contributions on February 13th.
Please join me here at Chicken Spaghetti for Poetry Friday next week, when I'll be wearing a colorful hostess outfit and passing canapés. If you'd like to, you can write from the same prompt I used: begin a poem with the last line of Walt Whitman's "Song of Myself," which is “I stop somewhere waiting for you.” Details here. First-time participants are always welcome.
Photo by Susan Thomsen
Susan, I am intrigued with your sweet poem. I love that idea, and I thought of my own “In this Poem You’ll Find Some…” I don’t know what is in mine, for right now I’m celebrating your poem with the entrances of Mom, Dad and Auntie. So many interesting interactions.
Denise, I will totally read your “In This Poem You’ll Find Some…” poem. I didn’t see the appearances of Mom, Dad, and Auntie coming in this one, but there they are!
You had me at the title, Susan. I find titles are so hard, and I have so much to learn about them. The poem is almost like a stream-of-consciousness journal entry. I love list poems as you learn so much and it’s interesting to see how everything listed is related. Happy Valentine’s Day.
Ah, nice. That would fit, I think. Thanks for stopping by, Karen! It’s a gray Saturday morning in Connecticut, but it’s considerably more cheerful with the Poetry Friday posts to read.
I do spend time messing about with the title, so like those earlier, I was intrigued by the way you handled it, so full of heart and imagination, Susan! To me, you’ve opened your thoughts and helped us know that those kinds of thoughts are okay, just akin to ours! I read it several times, enjoying every part! Love the idea for next week, too!
I’m glad you liked it, Linda! One of my favorite songs on my playlist lately has been “Eugene,” by Pink Martini, and several of the lines are pretty enjambed. I’m sure that had an influence, too.
Every poem for me starts with coffee. I love to write in the morning, but only after coffee hits me. I love the circular structure, how you come back around to auntie. Thanks for sharing!
Yes, ma’am! I love the fact that your poems start with coffee, Margaret. I like the idea of writing an open-ended poem (which this one isn’t!), but circling back in this case seemed right.
Gosh I want sit with “I knew what I knew /But when I wrote it all out/ It didn’t make me feel happy,/ Only a little less mysterious.” –Sorta makes me want to forgo lists! (I am totally smiling about all this).
What a delightfully nostalgic stream of memories and moments, Susan. Your poem flows with effortless grace rounding up poignant recollections as it moves by. I loved it. I would classify these words under-words I wish I had written. I am pasting it in my currnet notebook as an exemplar. It’s a cracker of a poem. Ah coffee. Bravo!
I love how your poem flows in such an organic way, moving from here to there with such heart all throughout it. This is a poem that invites and rewards rereading. Thanks for sharing!
I LOVE poems where the title is also the first line. (That might help me with your Whitman challenge!!) My poems start with tea, and usually some staring out my office window at the sunrise. The new window-staring sport is “how far has the snow melted away from our neighbor’s house today?” Maybe I need to write a poem about melting snow…
It stands thrillingly alone, this poem, but I also read it as the introductory poem to a character in a very interesting verse novel. There is this aching combination of nonchalance and longing. I’ll be joining you next week with a “I stop somewhere waiting for you” poem, and I also lifted your comment to Laura PS about the confetti cannon, if that’s okay with you, Susan!
Heidi! I like this idea, that it’s part of something bigger. That had not occurred to me. Thank you! I am tickled to see the confetti cannon has more life. Lift away! We were just talking about it again last night. That celebration of our son’s graduation from trade school was so joyous.
I absolutely love the randomness of this poem, Susan, and how your thoughts just stream out but somehow connect. Love how you circled back to Auntie and the dishwasher at the end. Beautiful memories. I’m hoping to join you next week with my “I stop somewhere waiting for you” poem (although I haven’t written it yet).
Rose, I still laugh about the dishwasher. Auntie had her opinions! I’m so glad you’ll join in on the prompt. I didn’t think I had anything to write beyond the first line, then suddenly I did.
Well, obviously, you had me at “poem” and “coffee.” 🙂 And I was thinking, “Who is this poet? I love them,” and then I got to the end and it was you. ❤️
In Dear Writer, Maggie Smith talks about the various ways in which she titles her poems and it’s such a fun section of the book. (I’m loving everything about that book.) I love a title that announces something to me, or prepares me for something and I love the way you meander through the memories your list evoked, even as you were surprised by where they took you. That lets us be surprised too. Your auntie’s strong opinions about dishwasher-loading made me think of my dad. I could write a whole poem about the things he thought he knew best. 🙂
Thanks for this, Susan! What a treat. Add me to Alan’s list of people who wish they’d written this poem.
Karen, what a lovely, lovely thing to read this morning. PLEASE write the poem about what your dad knew best. I know it will be good. I probably need to write some more about Auntie. I once went on an errand with her when she had to drive a mynah bird to Dallas, and I’m pretty sure it cussed. I will look for the Maggie Smith book at the library today! Thank you.
This poem obviously brings joy to all its readers – thank you, Susan, for this delicious, caffeine-fueled treasure. Love the conversational nature of it, the amount of character your poured into its tiny cup…!
Robyn, thank you so much! That tiny “expresso” cup yielded a lot of inspiration. Ha! These days I like both espresso AND cappuccino and all others forms of coffee.
I like to do that too, have the title move right into the first line. Love the delightfully conversational voice in your poem, really moves it along. Fill me in if you find out about the dishwasher, thanks!
Chicken Spaghetti 
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