March 21, 2011

Lake Chelan by Ian Sanquist

I am an informed member of a makeshift society,
said the guy dressed in a prison suit.

He was fast asleep in a room full of light,
no one knew his name.

I read the fashion magazines.
I suck the marrow from arguments.

The girls are always right, he said.
He cancelled the full moon, he took off his clothes,

he went swimming. He went down to the lake
to pray. He went down and knelt, swam out to the dock,

fell asleep under the August sky.
When the lifeguard got there, he asked him for his name.

I don’t want to go any further, he said, shivering
in the morning cold. I’m okay here.

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