Peter Chapman Poetry

The Willing World

If what you had is what you have now,
but looser, like a slipping knot
and the dance has floor for two small feet
then go like this:

nothing works because it's kept
(sliding to the hot guitars)
bright and dear, and kind is what this world
tricks you to

keep nothing close that might undo
(the thumping bass, the rimshot drums)
the loss, now less, that knew his face