feverish need for coffee, freezing and desperate for relief

stumble half drunken sober steps

shaking from waves of sickness

fresh filter, run water, got grounds, doing fine

sprinkle cinnamon, hint of vanilla, dash of salt, let’s percolate

clumsy elbow, paying no attention, hear the shatter

dismay

bottle of hot sauce across linoleum, an ocean of bright red

coughing fit seizes, smells of spice and self hate

step over cautiously, hit the carpet, shard of glass enters heel

not bad enough, this crystallized sand driving deep into foot

the coating of hot sauce, enters blood stream, the coughing fit just grows worse

asked for an omen, from the cosmos as the sleep took over bed

something small, maybe personal, that would show the times ahead

and it was a broken bottle of hot sauce with burning pain in a foot

should have known better, not to tempt fate, or ask for a look ahead

coffee sits ready, as the mop moves and bandage soaks up blood

broken hot sauce, unbroken fever, and a fresh steaming mug

should have just stayed in bed