Flip

We cut open empty cans
to hold some fire in our hands
and breath it in.

The open stained glass over
the back wall is a hangout
just for dragonflies and crows.

I buy a lemonade
from the vending machine,
and search for somewhere
dark to lean and think about
what all of this could mean.

I’m all for waiting around
on the tailgates of trucks
that someone has abandoned
in this desert clearing,
slowly baking glass,
as long as someone shows up
someday with cold water.

Slide the gold coin from
the center of the table
off the edge and let
the metal ring out hopelessly
against the tile floor
I cannot even picture
anymore, but would recognize
if I ever made it back there.