Issue 29 | Daniel Brennan

Daniel Brennan

The Fire Road

                                           “He smelled so holy, like a sacrifice burning nearby” – Danez Smith

Another path               yields
when you press your hand      into his chest

You ache in the vehicle’s front seat,
body full with the sound of                snapping bird wings

Did you hear                           how the fire road
cleared its throat         as you proceeded?

Death is a lonesome predator
            The wild grasses bowing under its feet

You must be sure of where you’re going
This is             wildfire season                        after all

Road cleaved in the dark                    there is no one
not even God              to watch you flee

Your bodies     are       ignition
and resistance                         His engine

cuts out halfway down the secret highway
            where coyotes squeal and darkness chews

at its mangy limbs          tendons caught between its teeth
            He is married              to the virtue

of disbelief:                 he cannot read
            this black-honey sky               or its prophetic glaze

When you’re done being his vice       in the pickup’s bed
you will be      like a splintered wishbone                        the pass of anticipation

            Grown men get bored and     
fire roads vanish into the                    night

You cannot retrace these road markers
or how they caught                 his truck’s high beams

            those evil                     eyes
splitting the brush like a river             or a lover’s legs

When he takes you home                    map the
                                                                                    stretch

of pavement                the winding back
            of a pit viper               You hear its rattle

when you close your eyes      
When you remember              how his hand

            without its wedding ring
made you an equal                              made you an outcome

The fire road sharpens its teeth                      You must know
            some paths cannot be untraveled

Daniel Brennan

Daniel Brennan (he/him) is a queer writer and coffee devotee from New York. Sometimes he’s in love, just as often he’s not. His poetry has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize/Best of the Net, and has appeared in numerous publications, including The Penn Review, Sho Poetry Journal, and Trampset. He can be found on Twitter @DanielJBrennan_