Lakes and Highways

by Katerina Sevelka

Three puffs of a cigarette make me feel like I am
part of the traffic down there. Below, a constant
creeping, ants marching –
one by one
then two by two.
Benches and grasses where I lost you, then
found you again, and there
the intersection where I ran and felt like we could
never be friends.

The sun sets in the west but it rises with the least
amount of notice; the audacity
a dare.

Threats for me to wake up.

Remembering what it felt like to dream.
I haven’t had a coffee today, or even a tea
lying here in my
Living in my unsleep, undreaming
two sugars does not make it
sweeter to taste, nor smoother to

Lake Ontario might actually be
hollow – a cup
for me to sip on, empty
a blanket with a hole
torn through

a life to live where I am me and
you are you.

Lakes and Highways is out of print from The Blasted Tree Store

Featured by The Blasted Tree: November 3, 2017

Katerina Sevelka

Contributing Author

Other works on The Blasted Tree:

Lakes and Highways by Katerina Sevelka is a Blasted Tree original poem.

Edition of 100 longsheets published in Canada for the inaugural Canzine Calgary

Cover Image from The Art Journal The Industry of All Nations Illustrated Catalogue (London, England: Bradbury and Evans, 1851)