THE UNCERTAIN SCIENCE OF SHOPPING MALL WISHING FOUNTAINS

by Maya Owen

Just because I’m very high on acid,
doesn’t mean your hands aren’t two mares, foaling in the night.

Place them in my rapture machine
& get in the backseat.

Look, kid— no one knows
how this works, just
how it doesn’t. I never said
it would make sense.

Didn’t your mother tell you: you can’t wish for more wishes. You can’t make a dress out of a beehive. You can’t believe she’s not just going to walk down the stairs & start making you pancakes.

Okay, kid, make a wish. No, not that one.

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