I want a larger territory
than a screen and two fingers allow.
Give me maps
impossible to fold back correctly.
It would not frustrate me
that they never sit flat
bulge awkwardly
testifying to my inadequacy.

Let them unfold
propped up on the steering wheel
over your entire body in the driver’s seat
encroach into the passenger side
provoking vigorous objection
sharp corners just missing eyes
as you try to find your location
or somewhere that you are seeking
in the pasture of white and green
and intersecting lines.

Image credit: Julentto Photography

Alison Hicks was awarded the 2021 Birdy Prize from Meadowlark Press for Knowing Is a Branching Trail. Previous collections are You Who Took the Boat Out and Kiss, a chapbook Falling Dreams, and a novella Love: A Story of Images. Her work has appeared in Eclipse, Gargoyle, Permafrost, and Poet Lore. She was named a finalist in the 2021 Beullah Rose prize from Smartish Pace, and nominated for a Pushcart Prize by Green Hills Literary Lantern. She is founder of Greater Philadelphia Wordshop Studio, which offers community-based writing workshops.