Saturday, April 3, 2010

National Poetry Month, Day #3: Burst of Flavor

Burst of Flavor

He lights the butt of his cigarette
for one last puff,
then tosses it to the ground
choking the life out of
a perfectly fine morning.

The sugar settles in my coffee --
No, it isn't settling.
It's lying in wait.
It has a message.

The dinosaurs know,
when the world finally blows,
they'll be back on top,
that settled squirt of syrup
at the bottom of the cup,
that pure burst of flavor,
what it was all supposed to taste like
in the first place.

Morning coffee comes from grounds
for a reason,
the sugar whispers.
It reminds you where
you're soon to settle, too,
after that sweet, lasp gasp.

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