Lucas Bailor
Lucas Bailor is from Moreno Valley, California and is an incoming MFA candidate at UC San Diego. His long poem, Love’s Refrain, appeared in Ghost City Press’ 2018 micro-chapbook summer series, and his poems have appeared in HVTN, SHARKPACK Poetry Review, and elsewhere. He is currently a poetry reader for Gigantic Sequins and Bodega Magazine, and occasionally tweets @lucasbailor.
"My First Discovery"
I crawled into the streetlight
all gremlin-like, shone the color
across the filter so each car could go
and bring the moon along with it, tethered
to the side door handle. It could follow
us, like the way
the trees to the side of the street
follow the distance behind, the car
moving the road. You see,
the world spins when we spin, so I took
a picture in motion and the picture was
in motion, a developed blur. You see,
the world crawls when we crawl, like when I looked
down into the stump, the bugs always moving,
my first discovery. You see,
the world breathes when we breathe, like when
I couldn’t sleep and watched the night pulse
in the wall, patterned faces closing their eyes.
I crawled into the streetlight
all gremlin-like, shone the color
across the filter so each car could go
and bring the moon along with it, tethered
to the side door handle. It could follow
us, like the way
the trees to the side of the street
follow the distance behind, the car
moving the road. You see,
the world spins when we spin, so I took
a picture in motion and the picture was
in motion, a developed blur. You see,
the world crawls when we crawl, like when I looked
down into the stump, the bugs always moving,
my first discovery. You see,
the world breathes when we breathe, like when
I couldn’t sleep and watched the night pulse
in the wall, patterned faces closing their eyes.
Dig our chapbook contest:
|