plastic champagne glasses fall to pieces in my grasping hands
one cup hits the floor
cracks
useless
disjointed stems point towards the wall in a feeble attepmt to tell me something
I stand them upright
upsidedown
the bases lie in circles of swirling dust
such a chore to crawl on my knees to clean up my mess
it's not like we use them anyway
© A. C. Q. September 18th, 2007



