Mo El Kadey

TWO COFFEES A DAY

He said,
“Max, two coffees a day.”

Two coffees a day?

I’m a man who drinks
six or seven double espressos.

That’s about fourteen coffees a day,
Monday to Saturday.

And this imbecile
is telling me:

two coffees a day.

Two.
Coffees.
A day.

For fuck’s sake.

But maybe
I should have listened.

Because then came the tablets.
XL.
Elvanse.
Letters.
Numbers.
X, P, B, D, L,
whatever the fuck they give me
to make my brain
stay in the same place
long enough
to finish one thought.

And suddenly
all I could think about was:

two coffees a day.

Not my work.
Not money.
Not tomorrow.

Two coffees a day.

So naturally,
I had a third.

I got sick.

I didn’t feel well.
I didn’t sleep.
Then I slept.
Then I overslept.
Then I couldn’t sleep again.

At some point
I started wondering
why women wear hijab.

Then I knew why.

Then I forgot
what any of that had to do
with coffee.

Two coffees a day.

I can’t stop saying it.
I can’t stop painting coffee cups.

I dreamed I was scooping coffee
onto my bed,
sleeping in it,
licking it,
and somehow
it multiplied.

One coffee.
Two coffees.
Extra coffee.

Take the medication.
Feel sick.
Start again.

I don’t know
if the medication is helping,

because right now
the loudest thing
inside my head
isn’t ADHD.

It isn’t focus.

It isn’t even me.

It’s just some bastard
walking around in there
with a tiny espresso cup,

saying:

two coffees a day.

Two coffees a day.

Two coffees a day.

For fuck’s sake.

— Mo El Kadey

50 × 40 cm
Acrylic and mixed media on canvas
ADHD and Me Collection

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