Night Out
man stands drunk on the bridge
leaning over the water
like a streetlamp
the light drops
is scattered like gold coins
on the black water
a DNA double helix of gold
turned by the water’s teeth
isn’t it frightening
how soon beneath the skin lie the muscles
a bag of red boas
a man grabs a woman
she’s laughing
he’s laughing
he wrenches her close
a man stands drunk
on the bridge
his golden head glowing
his hands go out
his head drops
he bows
and the light races out over the water
like a fuse
Samuel Wilson-Fletcher writes poetry and fiction. He studied chemistry and physics at Oxford before starting his PhD at Harvard. He now works at the German Research Centre for Geosciences, close to Berlin. Sam has also worked as a teacher, a waiter, and an electrician.