poems by owen lucas

Lights pulsing in a neon alley,
Broken strings, clean shards,
and broken plank guillotine phone numbers
Walking falling standing in the quiz line
Lost travelcard excuses and bombs
and our thumbs are off

Further falls, boots and chameleons
but not the remnant of the desert
The smiles on the faces of executioners,
pimps, colonels and devils
Standing gutted falling euphoria