Kawphie

Hot black gurgling brew.
Fuel for the ensnared consciousness.
The sugar helps.
After I drink it in I can feel it trace it's path
through the infrastructure of my zombie morning body.
Feels like the Timan with his Oilcan.
"Tinka Tinka"
The machine slowly rattles to life, groaning and yawning
as the joints of the mind loosen and squeak.
The fingers vibrate, the feet eager to move.
Eyes darting.
If only I had something to do.