Poem: Suction Cup Killer

Sugary suction cups

sit on the edge

of a finished wood counter

a sign

“mobile order”

a pretty young woman walks in

bleached hair

and long boots

bit of a worried stride

she checks

to make sure it’s her order


goes for the grab

can’t pull it off

cup is stuck

she pulls

harder and harder

no give

she adds another hand

puts her legs into it

lifting with all her might

she squeezes the grande cup

hot liquid shoots out the top


she breaks down to her knees

the suction cup killer


in the corner.



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