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In Lieu of ProcrastinationTo procrastinate or not to procrastinate that is the question:
Whether it is more pleasing to the body to wait
Day in, day out, wasting time never regained,
Or to act, unrestrained by the freedom of choice-
To follow one's dreams, one's goals, one's path of life,
Until the well dries up and the calender marks clear.
Each hour ticks by the minutes and seconds faster,
A never-ending struggle between Chronos and mere Mortality.
Man must make up man's mind. Decide! To live, to die,
To each his own kind will he follow the light
Or will nightmare swallow the flesh the decision is made.
Today is tomorrow's yesterday, and the day after the day after
That vile temptress Time beckons with a smirk
All men helpless those without an iron will;
Stand strong, Brothers. Resist the temptation.
Today is the day; now is the time for action.
Wake up from tomorrow never-after dreams;
Sleep strong in the arms of the present,
Fear not the questions of the futu
The Coffee GodThe Coffee God behind the counter shuffles foot to foot, a dance of steam and espresso. Black painted fingernails, inch gauged ears and a gray striped sweatshirt, hood crooked on his back. There's a cigarette tucked behind one ear; it bobs and twitches with each step.
“Non-fat caramel latte,” he calls, just as he always does, part of a spell, part of a mantra, toneless (just a tuck at the end). I reach. He looks up.
The espresso maker hisses.
There's something like a grin, something like a spark, something like a shared secret linked eye to eye. When he passes over the drink (rough cardboard sleeve hot to the touch), he lingers. Our fingers brush, a shiver, a jolt, a ten-watt shock.
The Coffee God tilts his chin, shouts, “Hey, mind if I take my break now?”
and ducks around the counter without waiting for a reply.
He slips his cigarette between his lips without taking his eyes from mine. I follow him out the door.
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