Getting in the face of the moon by Daniel J. Flore III

Getting in the face of the moon   go away from me moon you’re really making waves you son of an eclipse! look at that pack of cigarettes down there in a puddle the ones I bought to pine with you over Cochranville the kind I used to buy out there Are you gonna pick…

Two Poems from Daniel J. Flore III

What’s left of you and me   old dark green styrofoam stab holes where the ugly flowers were   Freakin’ Crazy   I think they see me a shard of glass stabbed through my palm at a shattered window freakin’ crazy spilled pill bottles all over the floor and a dead cell phone half drunk…