poems by owen lucas

Blown, ecstatic, through holes, in dives
And swoops of emerald filigree
The force of spinning love that rules our lives
I hold you close to me

I dance, I grin, spin in towards
I roll back on table tops
I run outside, tattoed with myself
This escape attempt which never stops

This disc skip cold wind broken pair
Of compasses torn apart
I see and know the truth at last
The city has no heart

The burnout chances of a million chance
Encounters in the flaming night
Are dashed unthinking on the rocks
On streets that never see the light