The kettle is a plugin,
glass carafe,
stainless steal base,
with lights and buttons,
the whole deal.
A hush of cold tap water into the carafe,
the weight pulls at my wrist as it fills,
a satisfying click onto its base,
the beep, beep, button click and we
begin to boil, LED lights from white to red.
I think of beginnings & electricity,
how easy I have it,
yawn, scratch my testicles, and
my perpetually itchy *******,
wash my hands.
wait.
stare.
listen.
At the start, all is quiet,
a swirl of heat can be seen
as the water begins its
transformation.
I think of my wife,
at twenty-two, standing outside my window
early morning,
smiling at me.
As the water heats, bottom up,
bubbles form, water to vapor,
right before my eyes.
I think of my daughters,
the smell of their heads,
their warm tiny hands,
grabbing my face.
At about 160 degrees Fahrenheit
the water beings to roar,
the rapid creation and collapse
of tiny steam bubbles has arrived.
I think of the bickering,
with my wife, with my daughters,
with myself, I'm dark,
but just for a moment.
At about 205 degrees,
the gaseous forming bubbles of water
transition from a roar to a babble.
I think of spooning my wife,
my sleeping daughters,
sunlight on my face when its cold outside.
The kettle beeps at me,
I hold it high and pour into the press,
a bathtub filling sound.
I think of splashing,
the giggles of my daughters in the tub.
The grinds float to the top,
a tan froth has formed.
It is 7:23 AM.
I have 4 minutes until my day begins.
