America Is a Cross Between
After Catie Rosemurgy
An apostrophe and a possession.
A retreat and a quarantine.
A meeting request and an ambush.
A screwdriver and a screw.
A spitball and personal protective equipment.
Caller ID and an ineptly sabotaged trust.
An open book and that gas station mirror you scratched your initials into.
Pop Rocks and your neighbor’s AR-15 firing range.
The ugly duckling and an irate gander hissing you back to open water.
Read this poem in its entirety here: http://leonliteraryreview.com/issue-10-hannah-silverstein/