BY: Daniel Edward Moore

After death leaves its stinger
buzzing in my head
don’t let the hive of a million lies
tempt you with their honey.

If everlasting, the cruelest word
is used to describe my absence,
erasing me with a pencil’s head
chewed by the mouth of god,

tell them I wrote nature poems,
about the nature of passing,
tell them they have holes in their souls
the shape of a hornet’s heart.

 

Daniel Edward Moore lives in Washington on Whidbey Island. His poems have been found at Spoon River Poetry Review, Rattle, Columbia Journal, Western Humanities Review, and others.

His poems are forthcoming in: West Trade Review, Duende Literary Journal, The Inflectionist Review, Isthmus Review, Glass Mountain Magazine, Columbia College Literary Review, Yemassee Review, Cumberland River Review, The Meadow, Bluestem Magazine, The Coachella Review, and Conclave.

His books, This New Breed: Gents, Bad Boys and Barbarians Anthology and Confessions of a Pentecostal Buddhist, can be found on Amazon. Visit Daniel at DanielEdwardMoore.com.