new coffee

the beans bleed
like a chocolate blood

suddenly

through the spout
of the percolator

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

until a gurgling
empty sound

the death throes
of a crush
of fresh roast beans

signals
they have given
all they’ve got

go
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

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2 thoughts on “new coffee

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