Despite the time of day, night seems to be falling. America’s most famous serial killers howl like Siberian wolves. There’s nobody there who knows CPR, & it’s too hot to go for help. The heat has the small, hooded eyes of Joan of Arc’s inquisitor. She’s sitting by herself at a table in the corner, hands covering her face.
The gendarmes approach with dicks hanging out. A century before, Van Gogh was locked up in the madhouse for touching the local women. The street where it happened has been restored. Tell everybody – all business is piracy.
On a Friday in August, Christopher Columbus sailed west into the unknown. His country was the future. Now we know that no revolution can achieve what evolution can’t. Just give me a flashlight & a drawstring bag, & leave a car in the parking lot unlocked, & when I’m done rummaging, let me slip away like water, a silver bracelet with blue stones.
Howie Good, a journalism professor at State University of New York at New Paltz, is the author of the new poetry collection, Dreaming in Red, from Right Hand Pointing. All proceeds from the sale of the book go to a crisis center, which you can read about here: https://sites.google.com/site/rhplanding/howie-good-dreaming-in-red.
His chapbook, The Devil’s Fuzzy Slippers, has just been published by Flutter Press.
© 2012 Howie Good