[the Writing of Kuypers]    [JanetKuypers.com]    [Bio]    [Poems]    [Prose]

Order this iTunes track from the poetry audio CD Hope Chest In The Attic 13 Years of Poetry & Prose ...Or order the entire CD set from iTunes:

Watch the YouTube video (3:11) Live at Mercury Cafe, live in Chicago 02/16/08

See YouTube video from 5/27/16 (Cfs) of Janet Kuypers reading her 3 poems Brewing the Coffee and Remembering Summer, middle eastern man in front of me and her flash fiction Private Lives III, the elevated train, Chicago, Illinois, and then John came on stage and read her poem Freedom Just Past The Fence as well John’s poem at Georgetown’s Poetry Plus open mic.

See YouTube video from 5/27/16 (Sony) of Janet Kuypers reading her 3 poems Brewing the Coffee and Remembering Summer, middle eastern man in front of me and her flash fiction Private Lives III, the elevated train, Chicago, Illinois, and then John came on stage and read her poem Freedom Just Past The Fence as well John’s poem at Georgetown’s Poetry Plus.

Brewing the Coffee and Remembering Summer I pulled the bag of coffee beans from the refrigerator door. I could already smell the aroma of the flavored coffee: this time I picked Bewitching Brandy. I loved the smell. I treated myself to these flavored coffees at only special occasions. I closed my eyes and inhaled, filling my lungs, intoxicating myself with the bouquet. I hadn’t even opened the bag. I walked over to my coffee pot, the one that makes just one cup. I set the white bag down on the counter and opened the top of the bag. I reached over, grabbed a spoon, pushed it into the coffee grounds and dropped a spoonful into the bottom of the pot. The glass pot was a little wet on the inside, and some of the grounds stuck to the sides of the glass before they could fall to the bottom. I then took the boiling water and poured it into the pot, put the lid on it, and set it down to let it brew. I sat down at the table and watched the steam rise from out of the spout. The steam poured out, like it was trying to get away, as fast as it could. It looked violently hot. I then remembered summer. I would have flavored coffee at work over the summer. Work was my haven, my home away from home. My home away from him. I brought some coffee beans home for my mother once. A week later, while eating dinner with my parents, mother thanked me for the beans. Father, after eating in silence, finally said he didn’t like them. “I don’t know why you had to change. I liked it the way it was.” I couldn’t believe they started to argue over coffee beans. Mother vowed to it like a religion; father discounted it like one. It all seemed so silly and senseless, so I finally spoke up. “I was only trying to be nice” Copyright Janet Kuypers. All rights reserved. No material may be reprinted without express permission.