the human equivalent of 8 joanna newsom songs played at once

my coffee tolerance
has gone through the roof,
which is good, because
I don't smoke or drink,
but I still want to look cool
and a mug of black coffee
in hand, while writing
really does the trick. 

but gotdamn!
the coffee they make 
at this Best Western
is meant for all-night truckers
who come and go 
in transience,
not me. 

snarling and singing
at the same time,
I don't get heartburn anymore,
but here in Memphis
I half expected it.

I shake 
as I would
if she texted me,
and I hope it doesn't show
when I am manning the PowerPoint,
in front of conference room strangers,
because there is a thin line,
between caffeinated and jittery,
and I am riding the line,
like Elvis on speed on a horse.

yet my body barely moves
when it is supposed to,
like a tilted harp,
even though I don't know
what the tilt is for:
why don't they just build them that way?