Korean Blue People

The 45-year-old Chinese man who worked at Vital Tea Shop in Chinatown told me that I knew nothing about tea after I sipped his sample of a Chinese alternative to 보리차. I burned with shame when I handed him my credit card to buy thirteen ounces of oolong tea called "Korean Blue People"-- a tea I foolishly only chose for the ethnic familiarity its name held. It was quite shameful, especially since I own a blog domain called "MAY I POUR YOU A CUP OF TEA", but ultimately, he was right. I know nothing about tea and it only makes me want to learn more. This oolong strain's infused licorice gives it a sweeter edge that eases the stain of bitterness that over-steeped white tea can bring. It leaves a complex, honey-coated aroma in your mouth that tastes like a light layer of candle wax. It has become my designated mid-noon caffeine brew. 

rating: 4.8/5

________________

Winter is half over and I am awake alone

to wait for the lesson my mother taught me:

pain inflicted upon this body must be earned.

When the thrill of rain agitates

I wait and wait to remember

the bourgeois fiction of intimacy

by sewing her into loose buttons,

sliding her into empty infinite space,

tucking her behind an envelope clutch. 

Time is so transient, it shakes in all its passing

tonight I shall wait for the fig tree

that bears my fluency in apologies