Nature's alchemy in progress, a bubbling cauldron of scraps, where yesterday's leftovers become tomorrow's nutrients.

I spin my wheels or lose my drive, from too much strain, I can’t survive. In smoke or stress, my signs are stark, what am I that leaves its mark?

It is what utensils say when they swear.

You might call one of these by name AGAIN, and again, and again. One of the big digital assistants is also known by this name.

Where do you take a sick boat to get help?