DISPOSABLE PAPER CUP
“How can you do this to me? Fill me with a hot liquid that screams how much it hates being contained and cradled in my form. A form that renders me unsuitable to return to the earth. You then scream at me, reviled for cluttering the highways and byways of your lives.
“A little bag of indeterminable contents attached to a string with a cardboard label was flung into my body– I can tell you the contents of that bag started to complain immediately, about everything. He shrieked at the hot water that is whooshed in from the noisy machine – not hot enough to jump and fizz with life. Then he starts shrieking when the milk is added before he finishes brewing – he wanted three or four minutes and now the poor little fellow sits in my belly, weeping uncontrollably, seeping out dark brown tears that have no flavour. My cousin told me his cousin had cold milk poured into him first, then the poor bag, and then the dull hot water. The bag was screaming in agony at the torture. A plastic hat was stuffed on the cousin’s head with the cry of health and safety, a corrugated waistcoat slipped around his middle and the offer of little sugar sachets to add to make the whole concoction more palatable along with a wooden stick.
“Why do you use us like this? My lips are not designed to be kissed for pleasure, I am paper with a plastic coating to provide an impermeable surface. I can be used but despair that your taste-buds are deadened to sensuous pleasure in your quest to save time.
“What is this thing called time that needs to be saved?”