coffee

weekday mornings i dread.
   my phone-alarm vibrates, and my wife roles over away from me.
   i don’t want to go to work – i don’t want to study.
coffee.
as i shower, the grounds brew in hot water.
the day ahead seems more manageable when i’m standing,
   when i’m reading
   when i reach my third cup.
weekends i set no alarm, but i sleep no longer.
i can’t.  i awake.
no shower, just coffee.
i sit. i enjoy,
nothing.

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