Grease
Wagon
Paper cups,
Hot chips and sauce;
Sticky fingers dip in for just one more...

although i left, i think my cup is still half full and not half empty
half full because you complete me
full because i’ll see you again
not empty because i’m glad i got to experience you
although i miss your full naked body on mine and the empty plastic cups on your bedside rack

mornings brew a coffee-colored universe:
milky way of latte mixes,
spiral galaxies whirl on the caffeine-intoxicated mug
ground beans fell like the Geminid showers,
the aroma danced with rising planets,
and swirling reverse black hole of sweet bitterness lets you taste warmth and satisfaction.

like a shot of caffé espresso,
i would never think twice drinking:
though it scorches the mouth
i'll take the stellar influx,
just give you the taste of heaven
that the cosmic dreams only had.

Revenge itches, where love never reaches,
It itches in the shared cups,                          
                in the shared beds
                in the shared bodies,
But never, in the shared hearts,
For these days, they are not shared

All love is today,
Is a folkdance in a folkworld,
With folks one will never truly love,
But pretend to be loving, Living
How lively!

The roads, the parks, the brothels,
All flood with bodies, not souls
For the vessels are empty,
staring at each other's empty faces,
Prizing empty words to one another,
And mocking anybody different,
How lively!

And in such fragrance too,
Some bear to protest,
The lively call them dead,
In which case, dying is more beautiful

I never drank out of my
                        empty vessels..

They were expendable
                              holders.

Instead I put Ketchup in them,
            my chips diving deeply.

Every so often a chip would sink
       into this cup sinking slowly...


Only to be found once the potato morsels
                had clung to every tomato..