Steve Awakes Recharged
The store opens in 30 minutes
I must restock and sweep
I also make a list of orders
Today is inventory day
I count the shelves as I stock and sweep
I count the back storage after close
There’s already someone waiting for me to open
They see the sign and check their time piece
They knock on the window
“Hello, are you open?”
Did humans have this problem?
The history magazines don’t think so
They say humans only killed each other
Or procreated and not much else
Nona, the oldest robot in town,
Comes for her oil and fuses
She blows a different fuse each week
Her circuits don’t fire like they used to
Poor dear, I always give her a discount
She’s starting to rust
Coffee
The smell and aroma
The steam in my nostrils
The bold taste on my tongue
The caffeine in my body
The mug in my hand
The book on the table
Any time of day
With solitude or with company
Always hot; never iced
Cold brew is the devil
I like my coffee black
Just like my soul
From the poetry collection Men Are Garbage.
James Pack 