Ample Shed by Hanz Olson

Artwork courtesy Tex Fontanella and John M. Bennett

 

Ample Shed

 

Everything is shark when pulled back into the wrestled yard,

into the strong stance of a microphone. Ma Jolie and a photo

in the bus yard,  in some old warehouse in a Denver built up

around Nintendo songs, built up around what is forward,

what is poetry scribbled in the margins of a second round,

scribbled in a crack of fire aboard a paper boat. Here we are

blue ghosts sliding down the drain of some enormous space,

here we are leopard-bound quarters in the urinal, a National

Association of Letter Carriers, fried eggplant and a bowl

of white rice. I died within the origin of harmless apps,

and all of the virtual flowers vied for conxtion, for a pair

of low tides on the snowy path, for an arc of rust over the world’s

capitols. The evolution of experimental psychology picks up leaves

pulled in around your shattered frame just as you insert your impurity

next to mine.