Poetry Corner
The common denominator of Super Snooper and Blabbermouse, Inch High, Private Eye and Undercover Elephant on owl-shift assignment:
Coffee.
Strong, black coffee.
Unsweetened.
Even if it has to be kept in a travel mug and procured every couple hours or so from some cheesy all-night convenience store. And no decaf for them; alertness requires "the good stuff," essentially.
As in plenty of the old caffeine.
And sometimes a hot case sandwich. Or maybe some cake or sweet roll.
And you wonder, in the end, how such caffeine dependency all comes out.
I'm still looking for some interesting Hanna-Barberian poesy to fill this Sunday midday space. And I assume you know whence to share same.
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