Sunday, January 13, 2019

Thunderbolt. by Doc Sigerson



The white flash blitzes the intersection
to catch the scofflaw in the very act.
A fine is levied and a notice sent
to the vehicle owner of record.
One day my wife unsealed an envelope
and she withdrew a grainy photograph.
Frozen in a moment of distraction
behind the wheel I sit with jaunty grin.
In my eye gleams a spark and beside me 
my girlfriend with her unseen hand at work.

Drive too cautiously and you cannot help 

but hit every red light on your route.





Doc Sigerson lives in the Seattle area. He is a military veteran, works in retail, and leads a sedate life. He has had the wonderful fortune of having his published work disappear when online sites lose their domain rights and the terrific good luck to have his printed work fade to obscurity when those publishers would rather buy cannabis than cough up contributor copies.
-

2 comments:

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

I Believe in Meat by Susan Isla Tepper

So my sister sets me up with this girl who just got out of the loony bin. I’m not shitting you. Ginny is the girl’s name. A situation str...

  • BLACKBALLED by Cindy Rosmus
    1979 “You see that?” I asked my roommate, Juanita. “Or am I crazy?” As Juanita peered around the dining hall, Katie got closer.   “’Ju...
  • Chemical Exposure by Ian Hanks
        I grew up on the coast of Maine, both of my parents were professional artists and under their guidance, I learned to draw and paint at a...
  • Patti Smith, My Mom and Me by Kevin M. Hibshman
    It was 1978. I was fourteen and floundering in a small town , nowhere, USA. I spent most of my time shuffling between being bored sick at sc...