this desert is relinquishing an atomic scent,

bulleting cars into booming mountains, 

a clasping pole singing for me, swinging 

the ancient wires for the grid, intrepid 

and overly hot, bright and freakishly divine. 

the desert is leaving us on read, leaving 

alone all those messages, leaving behind the 

notifications from youtube and tiktok 

and instead waiting dryly under the 

puffs of smoke that wander like a jinn. 

my skull answered it's call but only after it lapsed into silence. i was too late for this conversation. 

i missed the peak. i missed the epiphany and 

the wind down. i only arrived for the lull and 

the desert looked into me 

each billboard standing maniacally under the nevada sky,

waving at me and everyone else who comes here

to live and to fuck away. in the windy breath 

of the desert, we kiss and lick our goodbyes 

and we wrestle and pine above the pleas of tires -

i love that you greet me. an anxious wind ruffles me.

my truck hums under my body and i look for more

republicans i can befriend. i write everything about

you and tell you nothing about me. the side view

mirrors are portaling purposefully and i watch you

put your clothes on. is dust becoming me? 

i sit here in my car and stare out of the window 

as the wind blows and i feel like I’m 

flying into a new neverland but i'm here with tires

and backseat sweat and ac and the boomeranging sounds

of cars passing by and the watercolor blue sky and the hot-cool

nature of being alive. just a few days ago this desert threatened

to take me from me. in the middle of its rocky pass, i was

extremely cocky. i thought i could make it further than i

could on this journey and it reminded me that it is

the cosmic bowl in which the living sleep - 

i misused the epiphany, i relinquished electricity, i fortified

the grounds against the gold braying of

sheep. i watched you masturbate as i touched only

the skin that peaked into the arc of your skull, where the

ancient beings sing out to the sandy ache. our windy

haunt begins the footsteps and an ochre palace 

catches the guarded puffs of sandy smoke. i stole

away and asked for a conversation in between the

panting frenzy of my truck under the sun

and your quaint shivers under me. i love that

you greet me even as the desert 

forgets to remember us at all