Ways We Do Death
This journey is not figurative one.
Not a diamond beaded Chanel
costing more than your heart could bring
in the field of an urban back alley
sliding off the runway of impermanence.
It’s a funeral home with
rose splattered parlors & pyres
on the Ganges writing names in the sky
& ashes in boxes on cedar mantles
ashamed of what money can’t save.
These are the ways we do death.
Desperate as an alcoholic bird
before mass. Bread & wine. Please.
Sad as a terrorist’s wife’s last kiss.
Vestments of bombs. Please.
Daniel Edward Moore lives in Washington on Whidbey Island. His poems are forthcoming in Plainsongs, The Cape Rock, Artifact Nouveau, Gyroscope Review, Magnolia Review and Kestrel Literary Journal. His book, Waxing The Dents was a finalist for the Brick Road Poetry Prize and will be released February 2020. danieledwardmoore.com.