Curiosity Shop

The congestion on this street is pretty bad,
you can see the storefront’s blackened by exhaust. But it’s mine.
A little curiosity shop, a small ambition,
a pint-sized dream no bigger than a can of Crisco
or a jar of orange marmalade.

Small enough
to slip between the teeth of dream-devouring gears,
to not be neutered by the ruthless anti-aspirational machinery
that rules our lives and grinds ambition
into faceless flour.

Small enough
to fall like a mustard seed into a busy street, grow into this,
my business. My hole-in-the-wall,
my shop.

--word salad

Available! High-Voltage Lines, Knocking from Inside