by Jacob Schepers
Its gleaming led me to it, the silver
against white, a snow-nestled transmitter
sending distress signals without the need
to push a button or patch together
a cold, distant frequency. My magic
jukebox perks up, sprung and giddy to find
two crackling waves, splicing them together
for my benefit. Some creature comfort.
The crossed signals settle into ditone
humming. This isn’t how a jukebox should
kick it, but here we are, though further west
than I figured since the theme from Tetris
punctures an early Yakov Smirnoff set.
I let the soundwaves douse me, a baptism
by jukebox, and abandon more pressing
and obvious thoughts like sending signals
myself. This cold numbs, penetrates, but for
the first time here I crack a chapped-lip smile.
Yakov double-dog dares me to laugh and
I do. I can hear him through the jukebox
doubled over, gasping, What a country!
Jacob Schepers is the author of A Bundle of Careful Compromises. His writing has appeared in Verse, [PANK], Tupelo Quarterly, The Fanzine, and Entropy, among others. He teaches in the University Writing Program and Program of Liberal Studies at the University of Notre Dame.