tug and away they go 1400 stadium seats like a snail shell unspiraling down a plug hole it’s just a binary whirr, green and grey moving shapes tickling my eyelids the next day as we hurtle toward that silver car which ran a red light I wait for new dreams the dividing of shin bones a head in a glove box but luck has a dozen centimetres in stock and breathing fast through our finger tips we hit any key to continue the plug hole can wait
Written for Twiglet #280 “dream bin”
Out of the Cave 
For god’s sake, girl, you made me say the F-word. 😂
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😆
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That must have been so frightening.
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What a rush, this one.
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Great build up. Wasn’t sure where this was going but glad it ended with everyone intact.
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Scary stuff!
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Goodness, this was brutal. Memories of my two bad accidents came immediately to mind. These images are on steroids in this poem. Your talent is amazing. 🙂
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Thanks, Mike! You’re so kind. Yesterday’s experience sure shook me up. We were on our way home from a post cancer treatment check up at the hospital. All was good. And then I thought the universe had new plans! As my grandfather always said “You have to consider everybody else on the road a fool.”
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I’m so glad everything ended up okay–both the check-up and the near-miss on the road. You’re right–things can change in a heartbeat and we have to keep our heads on a swivel on the road. Happy to know you’re safe and sound. 🙂
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My mom always said “Drive carefully and watch out for the other idiots.” Hmmm.
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