One shot of espresso
And maybe my hands will stop trembling
Another, with an ounce of steamed milk,
And maybe my mind will cease it’s endless orbit
Because my computer is in a satellite,
Spinning rapidly out of discipline’s restraint
Around a world that desperately needs it to be brought home to mission control
Because my earth is always quaking.
A typhoon of milky brew dripping gently over the edge of every tiny porcelain container. And the man upstairs is always watching so I need to keep it all together
Where are you computer?
So maybe if I drink one shot of espresso and drown myself in the river of caffeine, I can keep the tectonic plates from shifting too far apart.
And if I drink one more, with an ounce of steamed milk, then maybe I can bring the computer home to Houston without burning up in orbit
Because in space no one can hear you scream