somewhere between the rise & fall of chest to delusional chatter,
that searching & moral inventory of a pipe bomb with your name.

I fumbled with the fuse of forgiveness next to the list of people you
harmed where the ink is red & bright.

Being my favorite character defect, shattered and scattered like a
Tarantino film, you inspired me like Capote to dip my pen in a pool

of blood. Being wrong was hard to admit with sanity not restored.
We made cupcakes of your shortcomings to chase with coffee

at the meetings end which was when you turned your will and life
over to a stranger who had a car and kindly drove you home.

Daniel Edward Moore lives in Washington on Whidbey Island. His poems are forthcoming in Notre Dame Review, The Meadow, Southern Humanities Review, New Plains Review, Temenos Journal, Radar, Flint Hills Review, Plainsongs, West Trade Review and Book of Matches.His book, “Waxing the Dents,” is from Brick Road Poetry Press.