The Origin of Trouble
Daniel Edward Moore
Memory can always be something more
if reality doesn’t stand a chance:
a hooker dressed up like a Franciscan nun
feeding bread to the pigeons and poor.
Going there daily in my habit of relief,
dragging the past like a rosary chain
used to pull truckers from ditches of despair,
from beds gone Arctic and wives gone AWOL.
Maybe this is the origin of trouble— Continue reading “Daniel Edward Moore, Winter 2017”