by Owen Lucas

How long am I
Living ghost
Before I leave
The newspaper
With its golping
Explosions and
Sacks of Rome
And lingering
Fallsout (blood
Tidewise rush
From the doors
Of the elevator
Ajar!): how long,
How long ghoul
The tidy seat with
These untidy
Ideas that garland
My temples in
The simple time
Half an hour
After waking?

Breakfast will
Love make,
Signal breath into
Its solly place,
Placate the bloodgod
Rearing his
Hands of root:

Pale out,
Barren dark!

Owen Lucas is a British writer living in Norwalk, Connecticut. His poetry, fiction and translations have been published in more than fifty journals in the U.S., Britain, and Canada. He is an editor-at-large at Potluck Magazine. Look for new work in upcoming issues of Plume, Sakura Review, Really System, Monarch Review, Big Lucks and Tribe. For more: owenlucaspoems.com