Lake Michigan

We drove to Glencoe Beach
in the middle of fucking winter.
In this rich t.v neighborhood
we parked my ‘95 Subaru infront
of Allstates CEO’s million dollar mansion.

We ran through security cameras,
private fences, and imported sand
in full Chicago snowgear. Only the
duffle bag holding the toaster was
kept hidden.

We stood on top of
Lake Michigan. And like
wild things romped and
howled to the lighthouse
moon.

The police were coming.
We were sure of it. But
vibrating kazoo lips kept
our minds warm. Our bodies
in motion.

Then Bryan’s leg cracked
through the ice.

We were entranced with the idea
of one of us drowning. How not one
of us would plunge in to save the other.

Just our friends body slamming
against the place where water and
ice meet.

Lapping, lapping.

Eventually Nathan found the duffle bag
and chucked the toaster into the great
lake waters. Even in the dark we could see
the still escaping air bubbles of the sinking metal.
We continued to stare at the water at how unlimited
we were not.

-sonja lynn mata