Correction

What is so bad about coffee,
Mr. Eliot? Oh I have rhapsodized coffee,
The Coffee Poems: pert, curt
And sweet.

"Took it as an epistemological principle did you
"— 'The Logic of the Bean', — 'Phenomenology of
"Caffeine'? You saw the world in a cup with cream."

Yes, I hymned coffee bold while you strummed
Of a celestial lady in the earthly
Garden, fountain, bones and sum
Of wordless Word
In simulacrum.

"Well coffee is of the earth,
"But 'our Father art in heaven,'"
Sir, coffee makes a heaven of the earth
With scents of earthy heaven,
Haven of the day, its sea
And vision of its sky,
Horizon and the measure
Of its horizontal girth,
Companion in the misery of slow hours
Hurtling by: that is coffee's art,
And coffee artless, this is where the cup
Of coffee stands — and so for you, to you,
Oh gift of God, I raise my hand.