Vapid

What use am I?
Burning off shells of nausea
Spoiling Saturdays with the clammy face
of Hangovers

Meet coffee girl on 7 cups
She changed and turned over
The stale leaf of weekend airs

Vapid I drink Sunday away
Bach
The Well Tempered Clavier
Where my art too sings
To leave a poem for
Mouths that taste like too much kissing