When the body goes on safari from the mind, leaving behind enough food and water to power the machinery of questions, the cost is uniquely personal. Anything from a ripple in the day, to a detox tsunamis where your lungs become a fish tank, dirty as the pupil of a shark. Then there's the part about who shows up when it's hopefully over, arriving dressed in heavy, wool answers, displaying their sadness over you not sharing a similar taste in fashion. This is when it's good to remember that one man's escape is another's arrival. Nothing can stop a one way ticket from making the world feel safe. Isn't this why Ponder does what it does, reducing the number of skid marks on the heart to a maximum 58? One for each year the candles on the cake burned to remind you when all of you were here, aversive to the voices of fire and wax and the yearly roll call to meltdown. We've all been abducted by far worse things. A last moment there, is our first moment here, blind and bound in the back seat alone, with Ponder happy at the wheel.
Daniel Moore's poetry has been widely published in journals such as: The American Literary Review, Western Humanities Review, Laurel Review, Cream City Review, The Spoon River Poetry Review, Rattle, River Styx, Phoebe, and others. He lives in Washington on Whidbey Island where he is working on his manuscript, “Waxing The Dents.” He currently has work in the Flint Hills Review, Steel Toe Review, and El Portal. He has work forthcoming in Paper Nautilus, the Coe Review, and Dewpoint.