for many people
coffee is a butt kick
for lazy cells that
ignore the small voice
that yells
get up get up
the ones that shrink
inside a warm vein
as curtains are opened
and pretend not to
feel the shaking
of an arm or leg
it’s only when some generous molecules pour a pot do they file out in a thousand bathrobes climb to the edge of the mug and leap naked into
the steamy lagoon
screaming at the top of their lungs
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