“Morning Prayer”

Entering the lounge
I glance about
estimating the rank of those
already present.
If none stand so far above me
that I must acknowledge them
I sidestep to the object of my desire:
my liege,
my chrome and ebony

With eyes lowered
I hinge forward —
bowing deeply,
with a subtle side eye
and cocked ear.

I pray silent intercessions
to the office gods
that the carafe holds
rich black coffee.

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