The Coffee Machine Is Broken Inside Poem by Leo C. Jones

Four thirty,
Barely morning,
My day starts before the day starts.
I bathe,
I cook,
I eat,
I iron,
And get dressed.
But today it’s
Different:
It feels slower, like the wind
Comes in and stares just to
Breathe in the
Surroundings;
And the crows
Of the rooster
Linger.
But, no,
It’s not about coffee.
The coffee machine stopped working
Exactly a year ago.
In fact,
I could care less:
The door is okay,
The hinges are oiled,
The locks work fine,
And I can turn the knob
Smoothly;
Walk out onto the lawn
And into the curb,
And into the road with the sign
That says,
’One Way’.
Then they tell me
My coffee machine
Is broken inside.
Well,
Without stopping,
Paces brisk and determined
Without looking back,
Eyes forward
I say,
’Aren’t we all? ’