Vanilla Vermont
I think the man I loved for many years,
A druggie, lost in needles and cocaine,
The man who caused so many useless tears,
That man called Chuck, would find it quite inane
That I am drinking coffee, milky stuff
With lots of sweeteners and flavoured with
Vanilla and vile maple syrup. Duff
Stuff, he would call it, coz my mental myth
Of him is that he tended to hard drugs
And, yes, I learned that he had drunk his black.
He, sucking at addiction’s hard tit dugs,
Would think that sweetened coffee was too slack.
I also add dead love to it now. “Puke,”
Is maybe what he’d call it in rebuke.
~ Phillip Whidden