Found poetry

While waiting for the speaker at a Rotary luncheon today, I saw a packet of sugar on my table. It inspired this poem. For whatever it's worth.

Sugar.
Pure.
Sweet.
Nestled in a chrome caddy between food-caked salt and pepper shakers and a dozen packets of Sweet-N-Low.
Sweeten your tea with nature;
Liven up your life with sugary nipples;
Make it your own personal concoction of sweet, grainy ecstasy.
Like the charlatans in the Red Light District of Amsterdam — their full, red lips pressed against fogged up glass — it's there for your pleasure.
Take it.