65 in a 30
Wind pulls at what’s left
of my hair, as we hurtle across
the interstellar blackness
of the Niagara River.
Fools rush in to the lanes
in front of me,
reminders from God to
slow the hell down.
Toes kiss brakes, like
Icarus into the sea.
From the side window,
I look into a pale, slack-jawed
and witless countenance.
He returns my rage with
Divine forgiveness,
as if to say: “Wait!
I must slow this van to
almost full-stop as we corner.”
His martyred look says:
“It’s in memory of our
Lord, who only lets me
drive on Sundays.”
Alan Katerinsky is an assistant professor of Computer Security and Information Assurance at Hilbert College. He has had half a dozen stories and over thirty poems published in ArtVoice, HazMat Review, and other markets that mix upper case and lower case letters in the same word.