by Kellan Jansen
Yesi paints twin bison skulls, and the skulls breathe a little under her creosote brush—the desert murmurs, old road songs, engine spirits, blue clouds swirling where eyes once lived. Outside, a lifted Dodge crawls by, headlights dragging a caravan of unseen travelers. Yesi dips into pigment, and the shadows reach for the mini-mart lights, snaking. Far off, Albuquerque flickers—a bowl of neon at the foot of old mountains. The outskirts stir awake: mile-marker phantoms, motel-lamp silhouettes, flicker and red breath. Drawn like moths to the storm in her room, they angle toward the windows, many-headed, one will—the sky she's painting open again, driving without end.
Kellan Jansen is painting animal bones @MarryMeMachine on X.