way poem #3: to a higher place

boil
you slow-to-bubble philistine
whey-face
of wasted time

he is talking to
at
the milk
poured into a saucepan
on the stovetop

the brown grumbler
is roaring it’s head off at me
and you
you
are not even trying

haste
or I’ll tip you out
and start over

he doesn’t mean that
not really

but judging the sweet timing
that brings coffee
to percolation
at the same time
as milk to the boil
is art rather than science
and his agitation
to achieve precision
itself boils over into impatience
when he has to wait on one element
or the other

there
there you are

crooning now

bubble bubble
the whole surface over

bubbles
now I can quick you
to the cup

the coffee is still complaining
a slightly slower scowl
in the percolator

nothing has been lost

the flavor
bitter
sweet

who knows
perhaps his routine
of distress and irritability
had an alchemical effect

ahhh

regardless
it is his way
to the higher place
and every day
he gets there


© Frank Prem, 2016

Poem #28: way poem #4: the poet

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2 thoughts on “way poem #3: to a higher place

  1. Really enjoyed this poem. I like this man. He is a creature of habit/same conversation every morning. Oh, and he takes the time to warm the milk. Lovely. And a percolator really does create a different sound than a coffee maker.

    Liked by 1 person

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