Espresso Poems

I write espresso poems now
the way I used to write about cigarettes.
My old fumbled word love to white ash
the hard-dented tan filter.
The clouds! Oh those sainted particles!
The courage of my glass ashtray!
All swapped for
a slight-stained saucer
a cup
a cat-like crema.
How long till they turn you against me?
What will I smoke when you’re gone?

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