STORM COMING
1
I let the dog in.
Dogs don’t leave
fingerprints.
2
Every sad utterance
of the wind is a lie.
Every word it writes down
has another spelling.
3
Fireworks are illegal,
the dark & sparkling memory
of a garbled dream.
All night I hold
a match to the fuse.
SANCTUARY
1
It used to be called the Reformed Church of Lost, Crying Children. Now it’s the Church of Holy Shit! The congregation is waiting on the shore for the flames to freeze so they can cross over the yellow lake of fire. Meanwhile, I’m looking for a five-letter word that isn’t “ardor.”
2
I would get more results, the screen says, without quote marks around “suicidal thoughts.” There’s a weird old man I never met living in a cabin deep in the North Woods, with only a dancing poodle, and the books I might have written, to keep him company.
2
I would get more results, the screen says, without quote marks around “suicidal thoughts.” There’s a weird old man I never met living in a cabin deep in the North Woods, with only a dancing poodle, and the books I might have written, to keep him company.
Howie Good, a journalism professor at SUNY New Paltz, is the author of four poetry collections, most recently Dreaming in Red, from Right Hand Pointing. All proceeds from the sale of this book go to a crisis center, which you can read about here. He is also the author of numerous chapbooks, including The Devil’s Fuzzy Slippers from Flutter Press and Personal Myths from Writing Knights Press. He has two other chapbooks forthcoming, Fog Area from Dog on a Chain Press and The Death of Me from Pig Ear Press.
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