I drive the same route daily,
flip through the same stations,

but today all my radio presets
were phonemes and static.

I ruled out the weather,
because the sky was clear;

was it simply a loose antenna,
or something more serious

like a cyber attack
or an errant satellite?

Maybe the apocalypse
will be more subtle than the

splashy Hollywood CGI version
with lots of low end sounds

and chasms of hell opening
just behind my wheels;

perhaps it will be
the grounding of starlings

and losses of simple pleasures,
one by one by one.

Then, two thirds of the way,
everything cleared up –

I heard Bonzo’s drum solo
from Moby Dick,

the thunder
that had been missing,

and felt like I should pray
for his soul. 

Hugh Lemma

Hugh does not prefer to talk about himself in the third person; if he did, he'd tell you he's in a self-imposed exile on the east coast of the USA but still loves his former home in the Sonoran Desert. His first book, Auditions For The Afterlife, was released in May of 2016.

Selected byRaymond Huffman
Image credit:Led Zeppelin

Hugh does not prefer to talk about himself in the third person; if he did, he'd tell you he's in a self-imposed exile on the east coast of the USA but still loves his former home in the Sonoran Desert. His first book, Auditions For The Afterlife, was released in May of 2016.