“The Brew”
I look at the machine.
It’s... plastic. Black.
Waiting.
You take the scoop.
Now, this is important. The grounds? They have to be... precise.
If you don't... measure?
Well.
Disaster. Obviously.
You pour the water. In the back.
It makes a sound. A gurgle. Like a... wounded bird.
But efficient.
The drip.
...
The drop.
...
It takes... time.
And then? You drink it.
Black. No sugar.
Maybe... a little cream. If you're feeling... wild.
But you gotta ask yourself...
Did you clean the pot?
Because if you didn't...
We have a problem.
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Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 18th, 2026 04:30
- Comment from author about the poem: Time to shake things up a bitποΈππ»ππ€©
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 4
- In collections: 2026.

Offline)
Comments2
Sounds like coffee but I don't make mine like that mine is expresso ground fine filled half full boiling water poured over as it runs into the cup, the stronger the better. But could this be a bit of a metaphor my dear friend everything now days is mechanized, measured, plastic, sanitized sorry I'm too old school for that. Do rinse my cup though.
So true about coffee and metaphors. Thanks, Sorenππ»ποΈ
You are most welcome Cryptic
good write my friend
Thanks, my friend ππ»ποΈ
most welcome
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