This is how I drink tea in the morning:
Thanks to mum, she bought a gas cooker
I turn on the switch and it lits up.
I have learnt to rinse the kettle,
Once drank a Roach with my tea. Awful thing.
Get some water into the kettle
The blue fire burns the kettle,
Boils the water.
Steamy mist; hot water.
Hot water in the cup.
3 spoons of tea.
5 spoons of milk.
1 spoon of sugar.
You know, Doctor's warning.
Gradual sip. Piece-drink taste.
Daring tongue. Buds burning.
Hotness reduced;
Gulpy throat. Greedy tongue.
Nearing the end, the cup light
I shake it a little,
Remixing the tea.
They say the sweetest part is beneath the cup.
I drop the cup on the kitchen sink.
Leave the cup waiting for another drinker
Or a washer......
But I have been thinking about these hearts,
The broken and the jilted.
They make up into hotness.
Caught hot.
A little tasting.
Hard to get.
Hotness reduced.
Usable. Drinkable.
Sweetest part is beneath them.
Used. Drunk.
Dropped. Broken.
Aha.....They sit at the kitchen sink.
