Coffee

It’s morning.

I sip coffee.

I have perfected my latte making.

I play jazz while checking emails,

Loathing the addiction I am dating.

It's official.

I regret it. 

Yes, sir. I absolutely do.

I have an email from my boss telling me to

Let the new A.I.'s do my work for me. 

She better mean my new co-workers with the same name: 

Alexander Isaiah Stew.

If she means the robots, I’m simply going to scream.

Too late — and I spilled my coffee!

What a time to be alive. What a terrible dream.

This spill represents where

Our world is headed — where it already is.

Are all corporations one giant scheme?

Better yet, is the universe one giant quiz?

I respond to her email joyfully,

But inside my anger is angry.

I must remain calm.

Think of the positives.

I must be my own happiness, frankly.

I have value.

I have a higher purpose

Than what these robots bring.

I apply to jobs while letting the machine

Prepare my second latte.

Artificial intelligence is only good for one thing.