i. early

blaring beeps pierced
the nightdark @ 1:30.
silenced the warbling
banshees. falseness
of alarm.
(a)mend the sleep

ii. then

reached for a wider bone
china cup, to measure
beans, so they would not
spill. saucer stuck,
flying saucer, broken
floorcrack gasping unicorn.
salty tears;
morning electrolytes.

on morning edition:
highest energy prices,
bombings, shootings,
bipartisan housing bill
targeted at institutional
investors purchasing sfh’s
with hundreds of properties.
really, will that make
any difference?
putative gestures,
war-torn times.

iii. grind

catchment held 1.4 g grounds
from earlier in week.

two rdt spritzes
before the mister ran dry

used this guatemala’s
standard grind: 1.8.1
took a deep sniff
of fresh catchment grounds
rough, old beams
high pitched fizz

toasty chocolate — 🦄

ii. brew

the numbers landed neatly
but the morning did not

iii. listen

eliane radigue’s trilogie de la mort,
“kyema (intermediate states).“

iv. observe

first sip’s sour.
second sip’s flash
with acid sparkles,
astonishingly juicy.
not distasteful, though.
by the third, peering
back to that high, rough
groundscent.
bitterness shifted
into chocolate
sitting mostly along the right edge,
the tongue’s gutterball.

cocoa, apple butter, and juicy sweetness —parable’s guatemala notes

cocoa, maybe; juicy, definitely;
no early sweetness.
after enough time, the rounded edge
becomes a sweet mirage.

today, no real apple butter
detected. 🔍

[ cup/1 · listening · water/purified · comment/rin-vale ]

:wq