jerome moore Poems

I blow smoke
to the tuesday
night crawlers
on this night
...

What will the future bring?
senior citizens colored in ink
pierces by metals
altered with synthetics
...

I am racing with the devil.
on my bicycle through traffic downtown
on a country road.
i will collide
...

I am racing with the devil.
on my bicycle through traffic downtown
on a country road.
i will collide
...

“hey I know you, you’re the guy who sold me the jag! ”

The lights flicker and the stage spins
The man became a ersatz mannequin a straw man and the crowd began to roar
...

Cup your hands to the falling rain
See its transparencies and colors,
Watch the colors turn into sounds,
Sound becomes vision,
...

The inner axel
of a seashell in all of
its echo chambers.
...

Fools turds clowns hip straight square yuppie entitled
parade crossing the street grasping at limelight
disparity and sadness
ten seconds then back to nothing
...

Reaching my hands out
I hold fire in my palms.
Touching delicate things
destroys a piece of my mind.
...

God they had to be no older than 20, and boy did they look run-in.
The sun had just gone down over the pawtuxet river when they had caught me,
not completely off-guard but not all together on,
it was the hour- the hour of the night dwellers the homeless make a killing on nights like tonight when the party crowds are out on the town looking for a real good time.
...