a poem by Howie Good

We were children together
licked by the dog

with the black tongue

scattered rows
of lighted windows
looking away

a bloody ax
at any given moment

among the tools
in the backyard shed

We went to live quietly
except for hunters

and church bells
in one of the rectangle states

a necklace of red berries
discovered around her neck

what I’d been doing until just now
between tiny heart attack

Howie Good is the author of the full-length poetry collections Lovesick (Press Americana, 2009), Heart With a Dirty Windshield (BeWrite Books, 2010), and Everything Reminds Me of Me (Desperanto, 2011).

- Search the Journal -

- Most Read This Week -

Life Eats Life —poetry by Joseph Osel

I DREAM OF LOVING —poetry by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

at the 24 hour laundry —poetry by Justin Hyde

Mark of the Beast —poetry by Joseph Osel

Surefire Method —poetry by Dennis Paul Wilken