Raw ingredients for poetry amount
To a finely minced slurry of rock soup
Boiled in sun sweat
Sprinkled in paint chips and pinup dreams
Put on a back burner freckled in whipmarks
From the sadist barista swans
Poured into a human mold sausage skin
And held between the legs as
Scalding bus jolts try to
Zap it into life at 7 am by clenched leg
Measurements calibrated
To entice tasteless buds
To make room for her honey
Honey
Honey
In the bottom of this cup
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