Miss dust writes about coffee

Johanna Aitchison

You wouldn’t believe how

Many scars a cup of coffee

can leave on tables:

A moon at first cut,

a zero with part

Of its fingernail ripped off.

What is the story in the gap

Of a coffee cup ring on a table?

Miss Dust sometimes sat

In the front seat of her car

holding still to the ring

Of the steering wheel,

which scalded her palms;

But it was better than going

inside the concrete house

And sitting across from

concrete man

on concrete chair.