it’s Sugar I crave castles of
sugar with moats of sugar
oozing red sweetness onto my
lips not chopped veggies not La
Victoria all vinegar and spice
(i want it quick i want it now)
not meaningless gibulations
involving me and the psyche
a saga taking the pulse
out of me, the head honcho,
the meat man. Not abscess
of heart or the timing of two
or five or twenty as they arrive
some dancing some clapping their
hands some standing still. Hoos that
at my door I don’t want you
I want
Sugar.