Poetry Time

I am currently working on the first part of a story that I hope to post tomorrow. For today I've dug through my old poems and found one of my favorites. I can't say exactly why I like this one so much, it's just a little strange I guess.

The Marmot Dream (inspired by Jay Ryan's Marmots, Chairs, and Buckets)

How peacefully they still themselves amongst the chaos
Of a world turned on end just before
The lights turn off.

They feel their way through the dream-soaked
sketches of midnight, whiskers a chittering antenna
on cold concrete; their whistles to one another suffocated
by the dusty gravity of sleepiness.

The useless furniture now swirls about them,
Angry and sideways in contempt of its misuse.
Yet they pay it no mind, thinking
only to shade themselves in its jagged angles
from the imposing phosphorescence
of amassed moonlight.

I felt the urge to wake them in the pre-dawn hours.
To shine my flashlight in on them
And see their eyes flicker wildly like pennies strewn
across the workshop floor. Yet they had disappeared;
beat a scattering retreat from my premature sunrise
back into the draped shadows and safety of darkness.

Or perhaps they were lost forever
Their memories awash in my own subconscious.

-This was probably written around early '06

OK, it's time to write. Ready. Set. Go.