Cave painters depicted running animals by showing them with eight legs. It reminds me of my grandmother, how she’d pick up a spider she found in the house and put it back outside. Look up there. The sky is so thoroughly that blue she adored it’s impossible to believe she isn’t still alive to see it. Don’t you think it’s time for love? Everything else has failed, the leaves erupting in morbid colors, Dragon’s Blood, Uranium Yellow, Mummy Brown. What’s important isn’t how it’s going to happen, but that it happens, and each silent shining snowflake proceed to fall in the exact right place.
Things We Think We Know
I try to silence the barking dog with one sharp look. Maybe if you and I can stand very, very still, the first wisps of daylight will appear, bright stupid confetti. I’m afraid of human beings. There’s just too much about them that’s hidden and unknowable. Sirens begin to wail. The sadness will last forever. I can’t remember now why I thought it wouldn’t. Keep your eyes out for canaries and lemon trees covered in flames, the flames behaving in ways no one had believed possible.
Howie Good is the author of Dangerous Acts ‘Starring Unstable Elements,’ winner of the 2015 Press Americana Prize for Poetry. His other books include A Ghost Sings, a Door Opens (Another New Calligraphy) and Robots vs. Kung Fu (AngelHouse Press) both 2016. He co-edits White Knuckle Press with Dale Wisely.