Two Poems by Benjamin Blake

Capilano and Marine

Cheap car stereo sings an overplayed radio rock song
As little rivers run down the dirty windshield
Store opened a minute ago
Not that you care for clocking in late
Pull plastic rain coat half-heartedly over your thinning hair
To make a dash through the downpour
Armed with cheap vodka and breathmint chasers
Without you couldn’t make it through the work day

Stocking shelves and sweeping floors
Isle 9 is the only land in sight
Clamp teeth over tongue when dealing with complaints
And indecency
Clench fist, trembling lips pursed tight
Can’t stop mourning swiftly dying dreams

The day she left you were drunk for days
The lawn outgrew the fence
And the mailbox spilt it’s guts over the littered sidewalk
Wander about in a sleepwalk like state
Prescription pills as a side dish to a dinner of breakfast cereal
Washed down with what’s left

Of the day’s bottle of Canadian Club
You just sit and stare numbly through the stained pane
And will the planes over North Van to crash

Diner Hearts II

Waitresses always make me depressed
As I inadequately fumble through my wallet
Staring so intently at the prettiest girl

Writing something in a notebook
That I fail to recognize the not-so-attractive-but-definitely-more-in-my-league redhead stealing glances
Until it is too late.

about the author:

Benjamin Blake wines, dines, reads, walks, and writes from the North Island wilds of New Zealand. He’s also the author of A Prayer for Late October, Reciting Shakespeare with the Dead, and Southpaw Nights. Capilano and Marine is inspired by the novel, The Gum Thief, by writer and artist Douglas Coupland.