perhappened mag
issue 2: ROAD TRIP
convertible ode-bop to
the salt river streets
JAMES O'LEARY
after The Killers
mother’s money car keeps me from drowning in the desert
daydreaming i joy ride through miles of grid-grief
hills upon camel mountains motels settled like legion
don’t i feel pretty behind silver privilege the letters as keys
for safety & summers sift dust storms for the metal sound of memory
the gut engine, the nervous brake, the throat drunk dry
drive faster boy, drive faster
& god it’s fucking miserable hot
i’m vulnerable out here legs miles apart from tame
stick a salt lick on my tongue the mustang i must want
everywhere once an ocean, everyone once an ocean
the urban opens before a drenched delectable sun windows down
panic token draped over my mirror like heirloom
all heavy spine peppered with saguaro & street signs
thighs roaring lonely & broken quiet with yield
drive faster boy, drive faster
so i step on the gas water up to the engine
so my lover props open my hood under neon 2 am lightning
so the brakes work well enough to stop my beaten heart
so my legs rev to the tune of the phoenix refrain & refrain & refrain
so the oiled machine of my bones gets me home safe & unsafe
so roadrunners drown-race me down these gendered streets
drive faster, boy, drive faster, faster
mother’s money car keeps me from drowning in the desert
daydreaming i joy ride through miles of grid-grief
hills upon camel mountains motels settled like legion
don’t i feel pretty behind silver privilege the letters as keys
for safety & summers sift dust storms for the metal sound of memory
the gut engine, the nervous brake, the throat drunk dry
drive faster boy, drive faster
& god it’s fucking miserable hot
i’m vulnerable out here legs miles apart from tame
stick a salt lick on my tongue the mustang i must want
everywhere once an ocean, everyone once an ocean
the urban opens before a drenched delectable sun windows down
panic token draped over my mirror like heirloom
all heavy spine peppered with saguaro & street signs
thighs roaring lonely & broken quiet with yield
drive faster boy, drive faster
so i step on the gas water up to the engine
so my lover props open my hood under neon 2 am lightning
so the brakes work well enough to stop my beaten heart
so my legs rev to the tune of the phoenix refrain & refrain & refrain
so the oiled machine of my bones gets me home safe & unsafe
so roadrunners drown-race me down these gendered streets
drive faster, boy, drive faster, faster
James O’Leary (they/them) is a genderfluid Pisces, poet, & writer from Arizona. A bird lover, caffeine addict, and bisexual disaster, James has work published or forthcoming in Frontier, Kissing Dynamite, The Indianapolis Review, and elsewhere. You can find them online @thesundaypoet.