Michael K. Gause hosts the Disheveled Salon, a monthly happy hour gathering of local writers in the Twin Cities. His first self-published chapbook, The Tequila Chronicles, received honorable mention in The Carbon Based Mistake’s 2004 Art Exchange Program Contest. His second, I Want To Look Like Henry Bataille, was published in 2006 by Little Poem Press and to his knowledge hasn’t won anything. His website is www.thedayonfire.com.
Lake Superior , Midnight
Dark beneath a bluer wave
tricks us into moving closer,
while the reason makes what we see
Together they're a magnet that cannot resist me,
because I was born a stiller place.
So at dusk I approach.
I spend a night with this tireless nocturne –
the fluid attraction between two living things –
engulfed in the reason some never leave.
At this window
Above the voices
Against the rocks
He says Now I’m the one
Who knows nothing
More than the love he wakes for
Less than the dream that follows
Save the way
To bury all dead things
How putting all of this down is easy
compared to the silence that follows.
Each time we stop
we are sacrificed to the quiet that watches us.
How all of writing wracks the virgin state,
violating our nature without conscience.
Raped by the opening of doors, we wake to find ourselves
water tossed from the broken window.
Youth’s Last Stand
I know you hear it.
In the breaking air of dawn,
the future is coming for you.
It is the ocean encroaching on your feet,
And you are wrong to have stayed this long.
But you are not afraid.
For like a hundred times before,
waving your flag with fingers crossed,
you will approach me and
pretend to give yourself up.