I had a vision

Of crimson vines

And blackened sleeves,

And pastry palms 

Holding strawberries.

If I turned my heart

I am thinner than I thought:

Though my scale says I'm not,

I can see the sour fruit I've caught.

In the spring, the flowers call

Like I could be King of them all,

Burning in the sun before the fall.

not a cola or a root beer;

something in between

like a tortured machine—

it will power down soon.

that tang on your tongue

is from my chewed up wires,

lightning should show through smoke