The Lavender Shotgun

Eighty-five in a fifty-five
through De Soto;

Alejandro smokes pot behind
the wheel. Billie Eilish buries

a friend on satellite radio
& I’ve already blown my last

kiss to the feather reeds,
to the hummingbird, dapper

in the star-barbed dart
of windfall, to night & its lawless

posse of hoot-howls, the tele-
phone pole’s bandaged hide,

the stretch & sag of wires
down a headlight-punched path

to elsewhere. In the post-flood
road slick, we drift. I grip

the Jesus bar. If I die now—
no time to regret riding shotgun,

or dyeing my high-faded curls
lavender, or for handing my

heart to Alejandro, again,
like a pint glass with a dragonfly inside it.

ISIAH FISH is from Louisville, KY. He holds an MFA from Southern Illinois University Carbondale. His work has appeared or is forthcoming from Albion Review, Blood Orange Review, & Foglifter.