Tuesday, February 12, 2008

The Little Road Over the Dam

I don't know if it's still like this, but it used to be you could drive over the top of the dam on Baker Lake. I don't usually write about being a kid, but I got this idea after reading the following prompt in In the Palm of Your Hand by Steve Kowit: "Recall something that happened many years ago near a body of water."

Baker Lake

Dad takes the narrow road
over the top of the dam.
In the back seat, we study the lake

like cats regard what’s behind
a shower curtain. We hear
each pebble under the tires

of the Malibu, watch
waves lap the dam, through
the residue of window decals

Dad tried to remove.

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Poem in the Dark

It's still so dark in the morning. I usually sleep in, but sometimes I wake up early. I guess the events of this poem actually took place at like 5 in the morning, but it felt like the middle of the night.

Is it a shame that my poems don't have more "original" titles? I don't like to push it.

Well, I like that this poem fits in with my "weather" series. Also, I really like looking at the snow.

Middle of the Night

Woke up a little shook up
from dreams I couldn’t remember,

took my pills, looked out
between the blinds. Snow

had piled up while I slept,
everyone’s yards blurred together

under an unseen moon.