the poetry that matters

Howie Good

Howie Good is the author of a full-length poetry collection, Lovesick, and 21 print and digital poetry chapbooks, including most recently, Hello, Darkness, available from Deadly Chaps.

The better angels of our nature, drunk these last few years on stolen altar wine, fall out of windows and stagger off into the chorus of lights, chanting, Holy, holy, holy, but in a kind of unconvinced way, because it’s not the season yet for U-pick blueberries, the pearl-handled snow about as empathetic as the smoke used to put a hive of bees to sleep, only to dream of brown bears in black leather jackets running amuck in a supermarket in California with the juvenile poetry of zip guns and switch-blades.

Search parties themselves have gotten lost and with only a sleeve of stale Saltines in the bread box. The stuff your mother threw out would be worth a lot of money now, you claim. Sky, snow, mountain, trees. You’ll be okay, like a driftwood fire at the lake or the boneless pickpockets you saw that half-day in Barcelona hanging out with bottle blondes and the ill-tempered ghosts of ancestors.

The mind is
a treacherous friend,

raking lizards from trees
in the yard at night,

the stolen painting
stashed this whole time

in the house next door.

for Richard Brautigan

Steelhead trout dapple
the Pacific Northwest
like the silver sound
of Chekov’s phone ringing.

It’s a little early
to think about dinner.

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