Nathan Moore

What We’re Watching Now

 A camera catches an act of theft. A hand
 slides into a purse. A purse is held under 
a slot machine. Someone wants a machine
 to protect commercial interests. Someone
 lies frozen on the couch during a commercial. 
Frozen hope leads to lapsed expectations.
 Lapsed logic gets lost in a file. A lost voice
 won’t return. The senator is screaming 
about the return of the steam engine.
 The street steams: we need antennae to find 
our hotel. Our ancient antennae are useless.
 We just stare at each other.

 For details on corporate corruption we milk 
the book. For us, books are bricks, though some argue
 flames or wings. Under the wing of a 747 our house
looks tiny. This house is full of anger over the point
-count of antlers. The senator points to the birth
rate as a sign of his decline. We aren’t convinced.
 Convinced our obsolete machines are suicidal,
 his followers push typewriters from bridges.
The bridge buckles as an acrobat balances on a wire
 above an earthquake. During the ground-breaking, 
the senator kisses a constituent’s neck.
 We aren’t having fun.

Nathan Moore's work has appeared in elimae, Qarrtsiluni and a few other places. He lives in Columbus, Ohio, and can be found online at Exhaust Fumes and French Fries.

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