Bad Coffee Breaking

I daydreamed I was on trial, accused
My espresso gone cold, and so abused.
“Oh woe,” I exclaimed, “What can I do?”
Someone then said, “I’ve the one for you:
He can make Perry Mason green with envy;
Stir jurors and witnesses into frenzy.
As to judges, he’s wise to predilection,
‘Cause they always sweat about re-election.
Of his rep, biggest frog in the pond,
Opposing teams are not very fond.
A Tiger eyeballing any inconsistency,
He sniffs out obfuscation and insincerity.
Not bursting out from the gate with guns blazing,
He evolves organically with pacing,
Showing at first restraint and patience,
Then exuding swagger and confidence.
He digs his claws deep into motivation,
Then charts an opponent’s slow degradation.
Deftly nudging prey into a canyon,
No half measures are his only canon.”
“But the bottom line is, I must demand,
For my lapse should I get a helping hand?
To fess up would appear common sense,
But I can’t lose my Grinder’s license.”
“Yes, he can salvage any reprobate
If you can afford double market rate:
Coin of the realm, beans or grounds all accepted,
Absolutely no maximum rejected.”
Gradually the scent of coffee arose,
Managing to tickle and tease my big nose;
I suddenly woke from the short spell,
And yelled out loud, “I’d better call Hal!”