It’s not coffee unless it spills…

Please welcome back Nathan as tonight’s Guest Poet

You can read more of Nathan’s work

If you want to submit a poem, please email


I remember you
as I scrub the coffee stains
from the floor, listening
to some vivid, faraway
morning happiness captured
by that ritual in your voice.

It’s not coffee unless it spills.

I remember you in a periphery
of cream-lined Pacific tides
with their sharp, lyrical roar

like memories that brew
with profane, glittering
emptiness, as stars shed
tears across an array
of fractioned, forlorn
linoleum seconds, aching
for the dreamlike embrace
of just your folded arms.

I remember you
as I polish the ground
of an entire swirling globe.

5 responses to “It’s not coffee unless it spills…

    • Thank you🍂 It’s been a painful year of loss. My fiancé ( in the photo with me) died July 17 of last year. She always spilled coffee and ALWAYS said “it’s not coffee unless it spills”. I spilled coffee grounds on the floor last month and just heard her voice through the home… then I wrote this stinker.

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