new coffee

the beans bleed
like a chocolate blood


through the spout
of the percolator

as though a vein
has released
all that it holds
it pours
as the heat below it

until a gurgling
empty sound

the death throes
of a crush
of fresh roast beans

they have given
all they’ve got

drink it

go sip go sup
go high
just a little
on the smell
of new coffee

© Frank Prem, 2017

July 2017 Poem #18: tba


2 thoughts on “new coffee

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