4x4ever everything I expected 2.5 bedroom gun rack smokestack tread for dread of poor handling known known unknowable star-spangled suspension of disbelief relief that the newest models come standard with Viking military standards of disengagement legs and arms and anything else that gets in the way of your way or the highway past last gas station of hesitation temptation to let go let go bullets and barbecue on cue your favorite song playing tie a yellow ribbon 'round every citizen denizen of deep sleep I didn't get last night babies launching from the middle of my head shot down by drone strike side-airbags oppositional last breath you never get I get or ha, ha, ye-haw! trucknuts without borders horders of post-apocalyptic trailer preview rear-view of what I make of this make of vehicle of everything taught and sold without breaks breaking down fear of fear of fear of fear of fear of please tell me what's wrong
William Lessard has writing that has appeared or is forthcoming in McSweeney's, The Brooklyn Rail, FANZINE, NPR, Prelude, FUNHOUSE, Wired, Hyperallergic, People Holding. His work has also been featured at MoMA PS1. His chapbook Rembrandt with Cell Phone has been published by Reality Beach. He was Drunk Monkeys' January Writer of the Month.
My father sexually abused me.
When I got married,
I hyphenated my name.
No one questioned it at the time.
But in the middle of my parents’ late divorce,
everyone wants to know about names.
i was depressed,
and i wanted
to take a
you said you'd join me—
didn't mean i wanted
netflix and chill,
it happened before words came
to tell me how to feel about it
newly connected neurons torn apart
forever firing blanks into the microbiological air