Morning Coffee

do you like this coffee,
black
full of holes

in the sky
which leaks information, not
the type

you could steal from a library, whatever
type of
hit-and-run, this
drive by might be—

won’t be found in a newspaper
or during NRA lobbying, confidential
bits of light-rays

are channeled, snap
off from
mother-iceberg, and

send themselves
hurling through
key-hole slivers of
formation, and

here
whether anyone knows it or not, appears
freedom