by The Poet Darkling
It’s always been
about the tea.
Black. Sweet.
Dollop of curdled
milk.
Everyone has a shop.
and they know how you like it
by reading your face.
You take yours creamy
strong sweet.
In a back room,
salty little fishes
bubble
in a cauldron over
hot wood coals.
Mohinga.
Myanmar soup.
Brown wrinkled fingers
work mountains
of sweet bean pastry
filling.
Stuffed.
Shaped.
Baked.
Get ready for tea
time. Stir the soup!
Voices chatter over
sips of tea black.
Chipper.
Sweet. Milk. Fish
salty bubbling…
conversation.
“I like to eat and I eat like a pig.”
Long bean salad.
Pickles.
Chicken heads served with spicy chilis.
Anything goes.
Cash only.
Summon the waiter with a kiss.
Crush of commuters
shoppers workers
tea shops.
Sometimes they sell
Egyptian cigarettes
and they’ll make your
tea any way you like
in Burma.
It’s really always been
all about the tea.
Category: Poetry, SNHU Creative Writing, SNHU online creative writing, SNHU Student