Not A Poem

Day hydration, tall Mocha Latte,
generatively psychosomatic,
(inherent powers as absence)
sporadic, but ubiquitous,
introjected ideas of inertia,
all I could come up with,
waits on chocolate coffee,
works after independence,
8:47am, borough of Manhattan
for chocolate, feels like coffee.
80 degrees, turning muggy,
later repercussive, lethargic fits,
that’s all you could come up with.