"oracular
redolent of purple cane"
or was it
"fermenting syrup"
or husk or dusk
or burning aspertame?
I tap the maple like a keg
and search for the vein.
I want to be capable.
without a hammer or hardhat,
it only takes a handful of sugar
to inactivate a whole vat
of concrete.
I want to be exactly that kind of sweet.
a tree filled
with unassuming
destruction:
lazy veins of glowing amber,
slow blood
to boil
and be distilled.
