Call you up?
and in a high
pitched
sweet toned
voice
turn my moods
to cherries,
sweet blue
purpled Indiana
cherries
when the essence
of myself is
a crab apple,
green
and misshaped
that hides near a twisted tree
on the hard f\dirt floor
filled with hate?

I could come from
my true crab apple side
but that would be a lie too.
Cherries, apples, pears, plums,
that's not where it is at is it?
Somewhere inside
the horse's genitals
lies that true spirit
which has nothing to do
with fruit
but more with a
serpent's tongue.