Creditable: Not a Mug’s Game

As the black coffee mug
Has broken up,
Demonstrating its impermanence,
I’ve switched to another,

But I’ve always
Used this one for tea,
And so I keep thinking
It contains tea.

How odd to keep expecting tea
And tasting coffee;
From whence did this idea arise,
And why can’t I abandon it?

Perhaps this is merely
A form of grasping;
I certainly feel
Some irritation or aversion here.

It seems
Somewhat ridiculous,
For isn’t a mug
Just a mug?

And the alternate one’s better too,
As it more easily holds
The desired volume of water,
Thus reducing the risk of spills;

But still,
I miss the old one,
And surely this is
A kind of stickiness,

Only a little suffering,
But it all adds up,
Yet also a good opportunity
To apply a kindly nonjudgmental attitude
To the study of clinging.