Poems

“Barista Basura”

Starbucks Picture“Barista Basura”

To the left of the counter,

Just there.

Can you see it?

All of those straw scraps,

Sitting spent on the floor.

Their purpose fulfilled.

Their numbers multiply when the heat rises.

Every now and then another’s purpose fulfilled.

Then they are swept away.

The lifespan of a straw cover is short.

Even if the straw is long.

But you won’t hear the straw complain.

It won’t feel fulfilled until it’s full.

Isn’t that a laugh?

It takes the matter of one organism,

And transfers it to another.

Meanwhile giving nothing back to the organism,

From which it takes.

Yes, I suppose a straw doesn’t really suck.

But it definitely is an accessory to the crime.

And what about those sugar packets?

Matted to the floor by means of Mocha Caffe Lattes.

Packets saturated with the summer sweat of cooling libations and spoiled potions.

Granules so sweet, intermix with common dust and create a new life.

But it doesn’t last long,

And further fulfills the purpose of another when it’s swept away.

This is the dance folks.

The cycle of recycling.

Grab a partner and give it a chance.

Just be considerate and leave your waste behind.

It might add purpose to the life of another.

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