Ruptures Poem by Shannon Walker

Fractured models flood my vision, broken
Emotional maps of a lost world, like the
One Jesus came to save, have become lost
In my glove box as I drive through LA.

Embryonic spores, pregnant, seething, lash
Furiously across the horizon,
Springing forth like palm trees from a rotten
Pomegranate, cratered and decayed;

Seeding cracked and ruptured highways, vacant
Parking lots, and bloody pot holes, waiting
To be filled by anything, even a disease
If it will fill the schism, and seal the breach

That runs like urine down a cinder block wall
From my pulpy heart, an open sore, in
The flickering light of ever changing
Digital billboard displays.