Blood and other miscreants
struggle to move through capillaries.
A faux-wood kiosk shields
the bevy of people lined up
like candy bars in a vending machine
anxious to be selected.
Lifestyles clustered in a tumbler
seek purpose and motivation to face
the grind stone, rough and unrelenting.
A loud gum-chewer smacks and twirls
surveying tempting pastries.
I grovel with sullied thoughts.
The machine infuriates my needs,
clamors, but not for me.
Finally I reach another like me.
My heart palpitates seeking true weakness.
Caffeine, and whatever I adulterate it with,
is stirred, always clock-wise,
immediately drawing every sense erect.
Cautiously, I cradle the tin cup
up to my lips and tip ever so slightly.
-C.L.Swinney COPYRIGHT 2014 by CLSWINNEY