Because the rooms hover, at dusk, over their foundation, & it snows. In summer the lake retreats, or you can feel it resisting
the moon & the stars. There are weeds growing from the gutters, that
house along the less-used road. I’ve got a knife drawer, with a little battery-operated light inside it. Lightning in the autumn, a
few bolts trapped underwater, like the lighthouse with an address on it. The
reflection on individual blades is the pond it illuminates at night. The larger the lake, the less cumbersome the drowned. Welcome to
the country! Where we sing on our porches, cemeteries adjacent, High Times
in boxes & sprinkled with cat litter. Everything’s nudged open by the hum of fall bees. The houses stay put but for the invisible
nights when they walk. When we all rise. Hike out to the power lines & listen.
David Dodd Lee's Animalities (Four Way Books) was published in 2014. Unlucky Animals, a collection that includes original poems, collages, erasures and dictionary sonnets, will appear in early 2019. He is the author of ten books of poems and his artwork has been featured in three one-person exhibitions since 2014. Recent artwork has appeared in Tupelo Quarterly, The Rumpus, and Twyckenham Notes. In 2016 he began making sculpture, most of which he installs on various public lands, surreptitiously. He lives on the St. Joseph River and teaches at Indiana University South Bend where he is Editor-in-Chief of 42 Miles Press.