2019-03-19
by
Eleanor Goldfield
bitter coffee in a white mug
stained,
much like me,
from long days and jittery nights
creamer in an overly bright container,
contrasting my coffee and I –
balancing on the lip,
pouring into the abyss
clouds of lactose free
mimicking the out-of-favor milk maid,
with a swirl and a swoop,
the abyss turns a creamy caramel
mouth watering,
I think of all the trite phrases advertisers would spin:
be the creamer, bring light
unsure if it’s bitterness that brings these thoughts to mind –
or a sweet sarcastic creaminess —
so often mistaken for a black abyss
programmed by the capitalist class,
I stir my caramel addiction and dive right in