The Wild Bride of BKLN
by Amy Bobeda

Cities were once built for walking; it was not until the Enlightenment that ceilings became white when we tried to dispel the evil diseases of the forest. There’s an old ceiling in the financial district reflecting summer light. Tainted plates of a sun, two pelicans, other animals I don’t remember. The Fearless Girl in bronze stares at the Stock Exchange, hands on her hips, defiantly she shimmers; I shimmer sticky pores.

The Lovers
by Amy Bobeda

You pull the Lovers. In your deck, they are a medieval prince and princess.  Her dress is pink or blue. She wears a heninn like Maid Marion in Disney’s Robin Hood, my favorite movie.   In my deck they are naked, holding the apple. Their roundness cannot be ignored.