cup of coffee
Turn on my tap.
I’m a baking bread.
Larvae drip out.
I crawl into my head.
Larvae pupate, bread is burning.
My mind mutates, time stops turning.
Ground starts shaking, air starts spinning.
Bread stops baking, I used to be winning.
Something horrible is happening here.
Hell is starting to feel real near.
I call the plumber, Charles Atlas.
Seven day wonder, built to last.
Pop a pill; test of will.
God is near, yet still.
Something horrible is happening here.
Hell is starting to feel real near.
Larvae keep coming
Like nothing I never knew.
Plumber might be dead.
Soon me too.
Pour a cup of coffee.
It’s the liberty bell.
Onto those larvae.
Send ‘em back to hell.
I’m breathing easy.
Saved a ton of dough.
Plumber never made it.
I did though.