This is my travel coffee mug. There are many like it, but this one is mine.

This is my travel coffee mug. There are many like it, but this one is mine.

My travel coffee mug is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life.

Without me, my travel coffee mug is useless. Without my travel coffee mug, I am useless. I must fill my travel coffee mug true.

My travel coffee mug and I know that what counts at work is not the rounds we fire, the noise of our burst, nor the smoke we make. We know that it is the hits that count. We will hit...

My travel coffee mug is human, even as I, because it is my life. Thus, I will learn it as a brother. I will learn its weaknesses, its strength, its parts, its accessories, its sights and its barrel. I will keep my travel coffee mug full and ready, even as I am ready. We will become part of each other. We will...

Before God, I swear this creed. My travel coffee mug and I are the defenders of my country. We are the masters of our enemy. We are the saviors of my life.

So be it, until victory is America's and there is no enemy, but peace!

#56 WEIGH THE TOWN IN COFFEE GROUNDS

Weigh the amount
Of the town in
Terms of the sound
Of thousands of pounds
Of coffee grounds.

In the soul of souls
In the mind there rolls
The thoughts beyond us,
Pound for pound.

A heavyweight thought
Un-thought by the minds
Of the blind, un-sublime
Ordinary kind.

You know, the folks
With the loose-cut thoughts
Like stupid jokes
With half-baked plots.

With reason seasoned
With unsound found
Around some sound of
Things dug from underground.

The un-weighed town
Full of drunken clowns
Who bring us down
With their braying sound.

Of half-assed, jackass
Tactless, thoughtless
Un-thought thoughts
Spoken always everywhere.

Gossip, rude conjectured
Generalizing, hell-bound
Heartless sermonizing
Needlessly demonizing.

Smaller now: the One-Time
Once Before—thought
Dreamy sequenced
Sleep-noised evening peace-ness.

The last great thinker
Thought this out
Without a doubt but
Didn't bother to write it down.

And now our methods
Are unsound and no one
Is around to point
The wayless way to
Lead us to another day.

Around the Doorway Door
We go but never through
Until we do
We wander babbling jingles
Between our sips of booze.

A dollar caught
With a spiteful thought
We ought not to be taught
By Sir Speaksalot.

Peal! Peal towering clock
To rock our aging thoughts
With things better left alone
And soon forgot!

Weigh the amount
Of the town in
Terms of the sound
Of thousands of pounds
Of coffee grounds.