Entropy
Green tea has turned brown
in the stolen cup-
a cup crafted in Japanese mountains
where the children
of the children of the masters
learned how to mold clay and ash,
how to glaze and fire.
It is no one's fault--
tea once green
left in the open air
turns brown,
tastes sour.
That is the way of the Universe--
entropy battles chaos--
movement toward sameness,
homogenity,
until BLAM!
A piece breaks off.
My neighbor fell off his roof
and died.
His Hummer rusts in the driveway.
Underground, the worms eat
his body.
He moves towards the Earth,
becomes the dirt--
entropy.
I refused to clean the kitchen
today.
I've had enough
of this woman's work.
The burners are rusty
and the dirty counters
are collecting dog hair.