My Coffee Grin

I’m rich. I’m filthy stinking goddam rich.
My coffee tastes better than your coffee.
I pay a lot more for it—a lot—
And it tastes a little bit better than yours,
Almost enough to justify the exorbitant cost.
I’m a lot richer than you are,
I have money
I can’t find
anything to do with.
So I buy this filthy caffeine from this specialty
farm the mountains of Columbia
where the sky spills just enough photons every day
and where when it melts
snow drips continuously over the shallow roots
with the regularity of sand
in an hourglass
shaped like a woman's torso.
It makes me happy, happier than you.
Just a little bit happier than you.
Wipe that grin off your face.