Give that to me

My coffee maker is a favorite possession.
A left over, headed for the trash, not as handsome as the new one. Which looks no better on the plastic sheet shit counter than mine did, not that I much notice.
Suddenly my pot of hot is done with me, it steams and gurgles and doesn't drip a thing out.
I tore it apart, because things that start working less well deserve a little effort.
Inside, it was dark and filthy. I never would have guessed: I wiped it down and it went back to great.