Literary Orphans

Two Poems
by Howie Good

Doriana Maria Lareau8

HERESIES

1
I pass half the day wondering what day today is, which world I’m in, rain clumping over the cobblestones on silver crutches.

2
They shove a bottle up a woman, or sometimes a police club. It’s what they call “white crucifixion” in all those places where God doesn’t RSVP.

3
A voice that perhaps I only think I hear calls indistinctly for something – forceps? – and as I fumble around in the drawer, angels develop rudimentary assholes and then pale, spidery branches of light spread.

O Typekey Divider

 

LIFE AFTER DEATH THREATS, or WHAT THE CAMPUS POLICE SAID

Avoid the busy intersections of time and space; frequently change buses, friends,
pants size; consider carrying a fire sand bucket as well as a cell phone; get a dog for
protection, or, if not a dog, a mantra; drink beer to camouflage your characteristic
burnt-toast smell; remove your name from the spines of library books; double-check
it’s really your wife in bed before climbing in; and one day when a gunman shows up
and shoots at you, gray doves may tumble out like the stunned souls of newborns.

 
–Poems by Howie Good