I set the milk to the boil and
Settled down with literature
A biscuit plate beside me,
I was quite comfortable
A rushing sound pierced my ears
A sound all too familiar
The milk had boiled too long, you see
And spilt all over the counter
My biscuit fell into my milk
Soggy and inconsistent
It dipped in the liquid too long
It dove in quite insistent
I opened a book and started to read
Alas! The page had folded
A corner imperfect, a crease so deep
Yet shallower than my disappointment
I settled down to write a note
To my dear beloved
The ink gave out midway through love
That unsupportive bastard
I picked up instead a pencil
Unfailing by design
Yet the nib broke, as my heart spoke
Oh this is all just fine
I picked up a phone instead
To reach his heart directly
Yet grating static and modem beeps
Made my message very erratic
Content with a simple message online
I sent him a sweet text
He replied with a curt “Fine.”
I sighed aloud, ‘What next?'