Valuables
Rowena Knight

She used to be a woman
with a name that could be shared.

Now, she's a wallet, a laptop, a car.
She had no idea she was so valuable.

He's no more than a thief, with an eye
for a cracked window, a lock with its tongue withdrawn.

Her story shrinks beneath tuts.
They'd shared a bottle of wine,

dirty jokes. She was a purse
in a back pocket, a door ticking on a breeze.

He's at her favourite coffee shop.
He takes buses, goes clubbing.

She stays in. Showers.
Her skin tautens to leather.

When she unzips her lips pennies
come pouring out. No one will stoop

to collect their bad luck.

Ghost Bikes

they lean on lampposts and trees
in St Louis, London, Amsterdam

carefully prepared
like a body for an open casket

flowers woven into spokes
gaudy against powdery white frames

*

a lily or headstone set
in the crux of the city

in its thrum of exchanges
its hiss and hurry

a cross at a junction
moon-coloured memorial

lit up in the vehicle's beams
a photo of the dead smiles

from the handlebars
tealights sink into a waxy pool

*

in the early hours
they wrest themselves free

chains slither to pavement
locks click open and

they fly through clean sweeps of street
riding the road's spine

unburdened by the monoliths of lorries
unchecked by blind spots

and the heart stop
of car doors

returning at dawn
to take up their quiet protest

Rowena Knight was born in New Zealand in 1988 and currently lives in North London. Her poems have appeared in Rising, the zines Binders Full of Women and Astronaut, and Magma. She was longlisted in the Poetry School/Pighog Poetry Pamphlet Competition 2014.

Well Versed is edited by Jody Porter.
Connect with Well Versed on Facebook and Twitter.