by Daniel Edward Moore

I study people sleeping
while being paid to watch them dream
things they’ll never live.

Naming what channel
their brain is on
every thirty seconds,

the line between voyeur and pervert
becomes a chaotic EKG,
beating the night like a one-armed drummer.

This trusted stranger decorates bodies
with wires and patches
in case the cable goes out,

making sure their channel
of snoring prisoners
becomes the world’s favorite bedtime story,

before taking them down
like a Christmas tree,
one apneic bulb at a time.

Daniel Edward Moore lives in Washington on Whidbey Island. His work is forthcoming in Xavier Review, Bryant Literary Review, The Meadow Journal, The Stillwater Review, Clackamas Literary Review, The Denver Quarterly, and Sagebrush Review. His book Waxing the Dents is from Brick Road Poetry Press.