in my dream lake superior was alive
a deliberate freshwater hurricane
of cobalt darkness
roaring and sweeping
straggling sunbathers to a 17 degree death.
from beach blankets and bouys,
the drowned didn’t see the swell grow,
the swell that would crest, then carnivorously
swallow their small heads without chewing.
I climbed to higher ground
and the waves gained momentum
following, flooding without boundary
with each roll, pulling more and more from the shore
until a road muddied,
a ruptured boardwalk caked with weeds.
I fled to a house on a rock
begged my friends and family to climb with me
higher -- I prophesized the destruction
and the lake continued to grow
slowly, disciplined and exact
sucking animals, trees, umbrellas and small shops
in my wake.
from inside the house
I stopped to watch the waves lap lustfully,
licking the picture window
then collapse tiredly on the roof,
fall back and then rage again
running out of time,
I knew the house couldn’t stand much more pressure.
and I climbed from the deck higher, higher.
finally, chased to the highest point
I turned to see that it was beginning to subside,
shrugging nonchalantly at my ascent.
it has been said that you are every character
in your dreams.
you are the warned,
the unaware beach celebraters
who drowned without one last bob for air.
you are the woman scaling a wall of rock,
finding footing, beating nature.
you are a massive, pulsing hunter
who wanes suddenly without remorse from the destruction