American Aperture

Jessica O. Marsh

You think that that thorn is sharp
you only tasted the green
space behind it [behind the lid shapes
form and you live them out traveling to the
sea by car] and
things whipping by all colors as you
go [rekindling the wall of each].
We cannot separate our fantasies
from the broken front door [it seems to require
some other sort of hands]
but it just lays there in the sun
banishing distraction and opening a core:
who is competing for the street today
[and who do they succeed in haunting]