while drinking tepid stuff

the coffee-maker just beeped
it’s an old machine, the spouse of
Missus Coffee, I suppose

I don’t know how that relationship
is holding up, since missus doesn’t live
in, though I look for her now and
then on eBay

the timer on the machine failed first, and
the coffee made isn’t all that great, since
I can’t seem to get it hot enough

but we’ve been through much, old Mister
and me—and I suppose I’ll keep him
round ‘til the machinery of one of us
fails for good

(I often write about morning and coffee, since for me they often go together.  It’s an exercise, ritual, I don’t know what.  But while I’m working on something more involved, I thought I’d share one of these pieces with you.)