White
Coffee
Mornings,
long before coffee was invented
before it was an obsession of instant caffeine
these modern times desperate for gratification
what haste to get the day begun and over with?
what did
the Victorians do? Sip on tea
nibble on petit-fours, biscuits, crumbs of each afternoon
while away each morning patient as hawks sensing dinner
the whites of their eyes staring nervously at the clocks.
for that
matter what did the Koreans do? still do, preparing
mounds of food, rice and wine for the proper burial of the dead
to sustain souls traveling on that long journey to the heavens
mourners dressed in white marching slowly up the mountains.
Decompositions
I don’t
know how to hold on to
things, photos, mementos
boyfriends, friends, family
for long, let alone forever
except
my thoughts, these words
but look! I am already rushing off
to part with them as soon as they drip
off my fingertips, as if they were obscene
and might stain my hands
thoughts
that would otherwise
become stale and reek with decay
in this boggy mire of my mind,
which has turned into a huge landfill
of rubbish, litter-a-ture, poetry, ha!
more like toilet paper unfit for anyone’s ass.
Copyright © 2001 Mia Jones
