Stop setting my heart on fire
That blue flame you shoot up as your insides burn
Extends to burn my very nerves
Who ignited you?
Who turned you on?
That lady who’s always innocent no matter how guilty I prove her?
Or the other lady who turns the argument against me if she’s caught in the act?
Ladies? Ladies my foot!
Do you think being faster makes you better?
I don’t care for your blue flames or the sound of your water boiling
You can’t imagine what a turn-off it is to enter the room
Longing for a hot cup of coffee and seeing your light off
Having to fill you up
Having to plug you in
And having to wait
Until you burn up
I take back my joy at receiving you
Give me back my dispenser
Give me back my peace
Read Poem: The Staff Room Kettle, by Wiam Najjar