Killer Clown

How can you feel relief about something

you still don’t understand?

John Gacy

When speech serves the uncivilized mind

notice how the tongue’s pink shovel

conducts the choir in a midnight dirge

as violent verbs leave trenches in the

crawlspace of a sad suburban brain.

For many, his picture was the last thing they saw

standing beside First Lady Rosalyn Carter

as the gods of deception calmed the crowd

with the lie you can go home later.

But no one had the memory of leaving.

Their hearts were at rest

For many, his picture was the last thing they saw

the beating could not be heard.

in a place so dark

Part of me wants to believe that

if one man’s sermon of terror

preached by a father’s drunken fists

could have found a church in me,

maybe the town of Norward Park

would have had more faces to paint,

maybe the dirt beneath his nails

could have been a gift from the roses.

About the Author

Daniel Edward Moore lives in Washington on Whidbey Island. His work has appeared in Southern Humanities Review, North American Review and more.

His work is forthcoming in The Meadow, New Plains Review, Steam Ticket Journal and New Limestone Review. His book, “Waxing the Dents,” is from Brick Road Poetry Press


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