Sitting quietly
in my usual spot
waiting for coffee
to finish brewing.
This is today,
just like yesterday.
I’m soft, I guess.
Soft and broken
though broken and soft
don’t feel compatible.
Torn, then. Soft and
shredded, all tore up.
I’m waiting
for coffee to finish.
It’s just like yesterday
today. Right down
to darkness, wind, rain,
what you might call
desperation, what I call
today. Today is
hard and broken.
I’m soft and perforated.
It’s like yesterday,
coffee taking forever
to finish
brewing.
I’m sitting in the usual spot
longing for it to finish.
Soft and broken in a soft way,
longing for a finish.
I wait for the finish but I’m not going
until I have my coffee. Today
is just like yesterday: broken.
Waiting softly torn for a finish.
It makes itself
known from the next room —
a gurgling. A soft
sound, a strangulation
in progress, almost ready; I’m
waiting for today
as if it were yesterday.
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