Jake's Flea Market

the mouth on the horizon appears
to open wide as a yawn and full of fire

the highway appears to come
out of the mouth toward you 
like a dawn long 
and thin   asphalt cigar

from behind the windshield of a car 
the apparatus of an eye looks 
up the highway into the blinding 
brilliance in the mouth 

sees the silhouette   of you pull 
its hind foot up   off the asphalt 
like it’d gained the weight 
of a work boot sunk   down 
to the ankle in wet concrete 

sees the silhouette set
it’s hind foot down on the asphalt 
in front of it’s front foot 

sees the silhouette turn   thumb extended

the apparatus of the eye that sees you 
transmits what it sees 
into the wiring harness of a brain

the brain decides that you don’t appear 
like an excuse it wants to hear 

sends signals down   arms into hands 

the steering wheel’s turned   slightly 

and the car veers
into the farther lane and passes

you turn again toward the beginning

breath out of the mouth warms your face

the car appears to diminish
into the distance then melt
into the fire in the mouth

as the wide open mouth begins
to rise   to float   to drift
gradually up the sky   
like a balloon   filled with fire