Monday, May 3, 2010

The Lake

This summer I’m building a lake.
Waking I burn fat orange candles
to stubs and look over blueprints.

When I die, I plan to burn and scatter
from every shore. Burn and scatter.
Sailboats will float on me, and in winter

I will turn to ice. I may be up to 500
feet deep at some parts.
I think I will haunt my lake nicely.

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