Category Archives: poems by todd moore

when dillinger…

when dillinger

fired a
machine
gun burst
he acci
dentally
shot a
crow
then the
dead
bird fell
into the
weeds
near him
& its
blood
splashed
into his
shadow

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i love…

i love

poems
where the
lines
look like
shattered
heming
way
sen
tences
the words
& syl
lables
hang
down
the page
like long
black
fuses
waiting
for
matches
they
dream
you will
light
them
they
want to
fuck
you up
good

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frito stopped…

frito stopped

the money
count &
sd why
the fuck
do you
like shot
guns so
much es
pecially
the sawed
offs the
dutchman
broke his
scattergun
open slid
in 2 shells
& snapped
it shut
then used
the barrel
to scratch
his face sd
it’s that
way they
tear up
the blood

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what haunted…

what haunted

dillinger
more than
anything
else was
the eye on
the pave
ment
during
the shoot
out in
mason
city
iowa it
kept
watching
him
while he
fired
the ma
chine gun

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burning…

burning

houses my
old man
sd licking
a drop
of whiskey
off the
back of
his hand
you can’t
beat them
for drama
the way
flaming
timbers fall
across a
sofa or a
kitchen
sink clouds
of sparks
shooting
out the door
some nights
i sleep in
fire i always
walk in
smoke

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cindy was…

Illustration by Jean-Claude Claeys modified by Mr. K.

cindy was

sitting near
the win
dow of the
car w/
her hair
blowing out
when
kenny
shot her
& blood &
pieces of
scalp flew
out the
window
then a
wind full
of death
rushed
into her
hair

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the second…

the second

dillinger
grabbed the
machine
gun off the
table &
turned
billie clicked
the kodak
then reached
for his
crotch &
while he
was ducking
sd maybe
you’ve got
a machine
gun but i
have yr face
& baby
you know
what that is
it’s the
american
dream

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what’s…

what’s

crime &
punishment
all abt
doyle asked
shoving my
book be
fore sitting
down
murder i sd
using a
fork as
a book
mark what
do you
know abt
murder doyle
asked taking
a 38 slug
out of his
pocket he
sucked it
a few
seconds
while
waiting for
an answer
then sd ok
fuckhead
it’s all
abt blood


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dillinger stood…

a

dillinger stood

behind billie
& slipped
the machine
gun into
her hands
then she
glanced
back at him
is it loaded
always
dillinger re
plied &
added
how does
it feel
heavy she
sd any
thing else
yeah
she sd
smiling
i wanna
fuck some
thing up

 

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dynamite…

dynamite

my old man
sd pouring
himself
a shot of
whiskey
there’s fire
in this he
sd holding
the glass
up to
the light
fire &
dreams
& murder
& blood
he dipped
a finger
into the
whiskey
& marked
my fore
head
sd here’s
to all the
ways that
we burn
ourselves
down

 

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