(x = space)

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Death of a Coffeemaker

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The world gets so small sometimes,

Doesn’t it?

I mean, there are real problems,

Real horrors,

Real fears

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And yet this small machine

Has had enough:

For all the pressing,

The red light will not come on

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And now the water in the reservoir

Has run all over the counter

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Sigh, it had been in decline—and

Now I think it’s done

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If I had all the memberships,

I could order something, and then

It would appear

Having been dropped gently

By a drone

Or through the door

Of a pilotless car

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But I’m stuck with old-fashioned

And will have to visit all the stores

At hand

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This could be an opportunity

To stop drinking coffee—

What?

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C L Couch

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Photo by Goh Rhy Yan on Unsplash

Flying a drone at dusk in the city.

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