Coffee Stained Press: A Poem



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Caffeinated nights,
And crumpled paper days.
This is the life.

That I might skip,
The intermediate step,
And save the trouble.

Simply pour my coffee,
Onto paper,
And call it poetry.

Dip my book in latte,
Call it the matinee,
Event for a book launch.

Grind the beans,
In a printing press,
And make it my ink.