BY: DANIEL EDWARD MOORE
When playing with yourself becomes your self
& there aren’t enough razors in the medicine chest
to manscape your world into highways & bi ways
yes, the eagle has landed but no this is not a leap
for mankind on to a lunar landscape of love this is
the cult of one mirror & you as history blushes with
ecstasy’s shame & the rain forest burns between your legs
as your boa constricts for the third time today
in this your most global hour.
Daniel Edward Moore lives in Washington on Whidbey Island. He has poems forthcoming in Weber Review, The Cape Rock, Kestrel, Red Earth Review, RipRap, The Timberline Review, River Heron Review, Passages North, The Tipton Poetry Journal, Passengers Journal, The Night Heron Barks, and Sweet Tree Review. He is the author of two chapbooks, Confessions of a Pentecostal Buddhist (CreateSpace) and Boys (Duck Lake Books). Waxing the Dents is a full length collection from Brick Road Poetry Press. Visit him at Danieledwardmoore.com.