Daniel Edward Moore
- Coronary events are poorly planned and cater to a violent cuisine.
- Strangers believe the civilized thing is to make your chest a sea.
- For paddles.
- Round blue paddles of rubber lightning.
- Attached to men whose arms are paid to row you through the storm.
- At the end of their shift.
- At the end of your life.
- By the time I RSVP the ceiling fan will have a new friend.
- The bulb will blink twice then burst.
- The glass on the floor is me.
About the Author
Daniel Edward Moore lives in Washington on Whidbey Island. His poems are forthcoming in Lullwater Review, Emrys Journal, The Meadow, Muddy River Poetry Review, The Lindenwood Review, The Chaffin Journal, The Chiron Review, Adelaide Magazine, and The American Journal of Poetry. He is the author of Boys (Duck Lake Books) and Waxing the Dents (Brick Road Poetry Press).