Coffee, Creamer, Sugar

half and half swirling

in the pitch mixture like clouds

becoming funnels,

the bitter contrasts with creamy

sweetness, swallowing the truth

 

the truth is never

true because bias always

feeds the legend beast,

black coffee, not truly black,

the flavor switching itself

 

the creamer is no

longer the creamer, flavor

switching from cream to eggnog

and peppermint bark and such

 

the sugar is not

the sugar anymore, from

beet and cane to stevia

and high-fructose corn syrup

 

there is no real truth,

there is no one true coffee,

no one true creamer,

there is no one true sugar,

just flavors of the ideal

 

the lying creamer

swirls Ulam-style almost

at the minimum,

the point where the odd power

functions always bottom out

 

Plato had his forms,

and the non-philosopher

has the coffee, the

creamer and the sugar that

copies a Jim Jarmusch film

 

night has fallen now

and halogen excitement

shines spherically out,

no haze caused by hexagons

made out of frozen water

 

the truth is bias

filtered into some kind of

tasteful purity,

bitter or not, sweet or not,

coffee now is Plato's cave