the cup… of wrath


with precision in my steps
i set out to
perfectly accomplish my
morning obsession of
ol’ wiccan brew –
i scoop,
blk god,
no chaser.
like a
mathematical correct equation
cup, spoon and glee
were lined up nicely.
this deed is done in silence.
so anxious for the elixir
one always tries to
CHEAT the process-
stinger for hotter water,
settling for just warm water.
but the Master Mind is always lurking
and states-
"the water will be ready
when the task is complete! "
shaking it off
i eye the coffee pot for sweat beads;
prayers ready for the steam that'll rise and
knock, knock, knock on heaven’s door.
Iike the memory of a grandfather clock
I KNOW that
in 221 seconds on the dot
… it’s HOT!
and i can rock.
sip. savor. sin.
begin my day.
the human way is to
rush. and hurry. and prod.
but time will be rushed for none.
Iike a madman on the run
i approach the cup’s edge
ready to fire my heap of
columbian gold
into my chalice.
almost there,
almost there,
almo…. <clink>

like a field goal
bouncing off the uprights
my precious brew
and falls
to the floor
forever scattered to the winds.
after the shock sets in
i realize
this was the
trying to come out of it
i find a towel,
wipe the mess,
rinse the towel,
hang it up.
I’m WAYYYYYY over 221.
echoing in my
heart broken body
the Master Mind finally pipes in
just when the piping hot java
would have been making its way down-
“the water will be ready
when the task is complete”
I finally surrender.

Law of Parties