Trim the Fat

you set the stakes

at the fork in the road

where time is ripe and

your sugar clumps,

wasted peels on the side-

let the sour grow

as we melt it down

you flick crumbs

with your

evening gown

and you can savor

all the garnish

trim the fat and

add a dash

of you, or you can

boil it all off

stir it in and turn it

into a stew

let it marinate

when the timer flakes off

like a stale sugar-cube

you watch the water boil

but it'll never boil

last call for a bowl of you

we sip it up,

but getting drunk

is nothing new