i sat and watched a kettle boil,
as several lifetimes whipped by
no heat passed through the coil.
i dreamt i was standing on a mountain's edge,
next i was clinging to a skyscraper's ledge,
i pictured myself suspended high up in the sky,
like my disbelief -- how'd my mouth get so dry?
this cup of coffee will surely deliver
the kick that i crave to grant me a sliver
of muse-driven traction:
a cure for inaction.
i checked the kettle again
but it wasn't plugged in.