sorta boiling

"A watched pot never,"
and I caught it at just
the inopportune time

as it almost tried, but -

thwarted by folksy, truistic laws
that by common consent reflect cosmic cause

it hangs perfectly poised
at a point between.

And I stare, like a staring-contest

was on. To see for how long,

we can hold the suspense. I have

so many recipes hanging on this,
which my feverish mind (capturing

loose heat) ( - nothing to do
with the circumstance, it always
does that) coming up with such ways

to make food come alive
in a pot held in sway
by my steely and vigilant

STARE

- it would surely make
some difference to how
each ingredient comes alive

to the taste? I have caught

an epochal moment, and poised
for epiphany -

I am watching this pot.

It depends upon me.

This pot shall not boil,
not on my watch.

Or I'll know the reason why,

and for the first time in ten months
of ruthless search for the lamest excuse,

crack that bottle of fifty-year scotch.