Desert Visions

[Leah S.]

Desert Visions

The sagebrush shakes when wind
shaded with dust
and thin like diner coffee
sweeps over
the asphalt of the desert highway.

I lean on my pack in the shade
of buttressed sage. The sky is bright blue
and the sand conforms to my body like
a worn-out motel bed. I hear the snap
of grasshopper wings become like the hum

of bright signs that light city streets in colors;
of vermillion and lime as scents of curry
and rice rise in wafts to the window
of Sal Paradise. At the sill
he sucks LA up in one breath

and basks in the cobalt glow. I breathe too,
shut the book, listen to the simmer
of the desert. I hear a faint rumble –
a diesel engine. Rising from meditation,
I shoulder my pack and stand by the road.



Disclaimer: Sal Paradise is a character in Jack Kerouac's novel On the Road and as such is solely the property of Jack Kerouac's estate. In my poem, I am not seeking to utilize this property in any other way than to explain what is happening in the scene of the poem.

These are line break suggestions, along with some suggested deletions and re-phrasings. All are only suggestions, presented in this way so you can see them on the page next to your original. Your 5 line stanzas are preserved except for the break where Sal Paradise becomes the actor. I thought the line separation there worked rather well. I don't usually tinker with other people's poems like this, so I hope I did not step on your toes.

The sagebrush shakes when wind
shaded with dust,
thin like diner coffee,
sweeps over
the asphalt of the desert highway.

I lean on my pack
in the shade of buttressed sage.
The sky is bright blue,
the sand a worn-out motel bed.
The snap-hum of grasshopper wings

becomes the snap-hum of neon signs (I substituted 'neon' here)
that light city streets
in colors of vermillion and lime
as scents of curry and rice rise,
wafting to the window of Sal Paradise.

At the sill he sucks LA up in one breath
and basks in the cobalt glow.

I breathe too,
shut the book, listen to a faint diesel rumble – (I collapsed and inverted the lines here)
the simmer of the desert.
Rising,
I shoulder my pack and stand by the road.

(By the way, I REALLY like this poem. Carry on. Leah.)

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One more thought: 'the book' is not mentioned at all until the very end, so it might work better as 'my book'. Carry on. Leah.