3/5    a list, a litany, variety of perspectives:

No Soup

theres no soup like dead soup, aged soup,

soup buried in the yard and working its way back to the kitchen.

soup you can’t resist. alphabet soup with over 30 letters. courage soup,

soup flavored only with things you’ve never tasted.

soup in a shot glass, an aquarium, in the middle of a double pane window,

ant colony drowned in soup

soup frozen in ripples like corduroy, silky, wooly,

soup without anything natural. used soup, vintage soup,

a different soup for every room in the house.

soup mosquitoes hate.  a soup only my grandma could make.

revolving door soup, loud as a helicopter soup,

when I slurp it sounds like snapping a shotgun

eating soup with chopsticks, using only bread, a glass straw,

pressing my face in the cool enough soup.

this soup is slow motion, cubistic animation,

everything machined into pinhead sized pieces

and the glass bowl is a snow-globe telling my future,

answering my questions as every spoonful is another day