the holy highway by derek lessard

Dimmerswitches trick
with sleevehand play-

legend and legendary,
American the shadows.

Histogram spikes,

choose one or other
as your focus,
other will
come naturally-
so I choose
to call my habit
trouble sleeping.
Will you waste a lens flare
for use as signal firestarter,
hope for nosy neighbors
fussing up a binocular scare?
Lower units crispy new,
propeller roils, rusting old
in boundary wanderlust,
contracts canoe’s arthritic oak-

hallway narrows
fit a body perfectly,
leaving travel choiceless.
angel referenda
index drug wars,
border eyeblinds.
luciform of light-

Giver of adventure,
given life
at all.
Cabin fever reliever,
gizzard droops
fat with sap,
grizzled sucklings
campaign sticky
sun attentions,
dripping with dope
from the love
of god’s silence.
Cartel accountant
cash crop creams
illicit agricult.

Please excuse me
as I vomit meals
from years ago.
Carve trailbroken pathwork
in Vulcan ash fallout,
corners Golden Triangle.
Your soul is wheezing some expensive hacks
through a strawfoot chasing weldcrawls
across tinfoil wrinkle slouchovers.

Tailpinch tester,
very polite robots
casually smartassed,
pleasant phone manner,
pain threshold transgressors.

I comfort knowing
things beside myself
are on all night,
and not alone.
Afghanistan’s just south
of backyard gated burbs,
inhaled fumes evaporate
north Mexico’s mass graves.
When earth lets you go,
upward reach smashes
cross-shaped window
in unbalanced lightspill
above the forehead,
death angel-
muleblood marked,
soil blessed domestic
just like you-
I hide your soul,
hide it in a drawer,
hide it like a jewel.
You be the keeper.
Volumes of a history
shelf alphabetically
by lie.
You be the keeper.
Wherever it is,
it isn’t lost.
You be the keeper.
Though they’ve only
once to die, poor me-
awake in envy,
do it again-
awake in envy
with an obituary’s offer
of the name I never made,
though even my paralysis
can’t help unearth a tear.
You be the keeper.
Motion with machete
to a narcdom gateway,
seizure threatens
xeric shrubland.
You be the keeper.
When you push around
your little winecart,
you are a giant
in a fairytale.
You be the keeper.
Columned flowers
newly naturalized,
recent natives
sway so neatly
in their calculus of winds.

Derek Lessard lives in a small basement apartment in NE Washington, DC.  If you happen to stumble across him on the street, he might walk right past you, even if he’s known you personally for years.  If you upset him, expect an almost immediate deletion from his Facebook account, followed by a re-add request the next day.  Derek likes riding in cars and long walks on the beach!