Over the Wall

A door made from the haphazard weaving of wood, rust, and ivy. Smudged newspapers flap wings in a heaving wind. Drowned birds emerge from wet print. Barren condoms spill to feed the mouths of empty cans. The garden has no house. Rubble and verge limn a floor-plan. Weeds grapple, roots maul concrete. Black bags regurgitate bacon rinds. A boy's found-treasure: a nickel can-opener, a pen with a lady, whose clothes fall off when turned upside-down, a chewed Superman doll. That night his closed eyes fly over the city with a half-naked lady. while a can-opener slowly opens up adulthood.