sugar country 

we all have latent patriotism.
i am always trying to recover 
from this place & then there is
some other glorious wound. 
i get defensive when i hear people
talk about limiting sugar. 
not in the diabetes way (i get that) but in the,
"i am holier than you because i only eat
the hair of gods" way. i do not believe
in sugar addiction. i will call it worship. 
my father & i parked in the blue jeep
beneath a willow tree on a saturday morning outside
the farmer's market. syrup sun beams. we had gone
to the candy stand. a pound of gummy eggs
& a pound of spearmint leaves. 
bubble gum cigars, banana & green flavored.
sometimes, when we were feeling divine,
we would eat our whole stash right there
& not tell mom. 
teeth ringing. organ bell brothers.
our ages collapsed & summer stretched 
all taffy in the morning bloom. 
sugar is my steering wheel when 
a thunderstorm starts asking 
if we are still here. if you dig deep enough
in the chicken yard 
you will find veins of sugar. the first girl
i loved fed me chocolate & peach rings.
we laid on her roof. the older i get the more
sugar i require. my aunt mary actullay had
diabetes but she still snuck all the candy she could.
more & more as she aged. 
licorice & mints & m&m cookies. 
once i bit a boy in the dark. his body tasted
like a statue of sugar. i wondered then too
if i tasted the same. nothing but glass blowers 
in a bright dark. i am trying to stop loving sugar
because i know it is a hole. i do not love
this country or how we suck the soil white. 
i try to think of cane. of fields. 
a spoon in a jar. in a bag. the sound of 
light snowfall. dissolved on the tongue.
i am ready to leave. there is sweetness 
other than sugar.