I have a coffee machine
which spurts and groans
in the morning,
while I sputter and grunt
in wait
for the liquid that
dissipates
the clouds which surround
my brain.

It has a faulty handle,
and needs to be held just right.
I learnt after two stained washcloths,
and three fingers
which turned pink
on sight.

It also has a button,
which turned on sometimes
shoots sparks,
I feel the current,
(I can see the ****** thing!)
but do nothing,
will do nothing,
till it dies.

It has been months
with my machine,
but I like this routine,
of it and I,
I have learnt a lot about myself
about my discomfort with change,
about my unchanged need for comfort,
about the degree of my laziness
and about how I'm willing to
make things last a while,

I have a machine that teaches me lessons
all before I have my first cup of coffee,
I mean, what more could I ask in life?