MiPOesias Magazine

Best of Cafe' Cafe' 2005

Lyle Daggett

Lyle Daggett has been writing poems for more than 35 years (since age 14). His most recent book of poems is If There Is A Song (Red Dragonfly Press), and he has two more collections forthcoming (from Red Dragonfly and from Musical Comedy Editions) as of fall 2005. He is also at work on several other poetry manuscripts in progress.

His poems, translations, essays and book reviews have appeared in Pemmican, Blue Collar Review, Main Street Rag, Free Verse, Political Affairs, and other publications. For several years he was a member of the editorial collective of Heathen Science Monitor, and has been a member of the poetry writing / performing groups Church of St. Vincent Van Gogh and Free People's Poetry Workshop. His blog is A Burning Patience.

Daggett has worked for a living as a telephone operator, cafeteria worker, typesetter, and currently works in the billing department of a large corporation. Over the years he has been involved in anti-war activities (starting at age 14 during the Vietnam War), labor organizing, and anti-racist community organizing. He has a B.A. in The Art of Political Poetry (that's actually what it says on the official transcript) from Experimental College at the University of Minnesota. He has never been in an MFA program, does not have a grad school degree of any kind, and has not received an award or a grant. He lives in Minneapolis.

under the mountains of night

i will pretend that you are here, shadowed
in headlights, that we are here in the greyhound station, butte
montana, 3 a.m. rest stop, two rows
of chairs inside, pepsi machine by the wall, its blue sign
signalling victory, a half dozen guys
leaning huddled against the wall out here,
i will pretend that i am from a snowblown icebound
city on the far inland plains, it is october,
there are claws of ice gripping the ground
in the bus station garage, i am shocked
to be in a place with ice not dressed for winter climate,
as though i had never stood anywhere cold before, i will pretend
i feel naked here, gritting my teeth in the cold,
not cold really but night and ice,
glare lights in the bus station, the men
waiting shivering by the wall blink
at me blink at each other blink at someplace else,
i will pretend that i have always felt this way
around you, naked and shivering,
you come toward me out of the shadows
tall and cool, slow hands and quick voice, you look
at me your eyes warm with night
knowing more than i do, a sky of knowledge,
you see into the wells within me,
the water quivers in the light of your knowledge of me,
i will pretend you come toward me,
you say something to me and my words grow silent,
and i move into myself and touch water,
and i know that i know nothing of the answers
but the questions have never been so beautiful,
i will pretend that we are here, standing here
in the noise and quiet of night and cold,
the bus is going to leave soon
and we are both quiet,
the mountains and plains will be filled
with night, it will be warmer tomorrow,
i will pretend this, i will pretend,
because it could be true,
that one day i will see you again,
we will speak to each other again, here
in this world lit by ghosts and dreams.