Abracadabra Universe
I got to confess, what a computer thinks a man looks like,
adversarially evolved hallucinations, is just the kind of shit
that wears me out, but apparently no one else, their focus
too much taken up with acquiring life’s essentials – liquor,
guns, travel bottles of hand sanitizer – for them to ever notice
the heart lying in rags at their feet, or the monkeys rafting
across the Atlantic, or the shrill, jangly sound in the background
that can be translated as “hello” or “goodbye” or even “peace.”
Mood Piece
The day was long, but the night is already longer.
I seem to have discovered my shadow side –
a wardrobe with mystery contents. Which isn’t
to say I feel sad or lonely. Rather, I’m noticing
different details; for instance, that the sky
is purple and blue and full of leprous spots.
There’s even a grudging moon. It shines wetly,
like the eye of the Cyclops, now that spring
and its things are closed until further notice.
——
Howie Good is the author most recently of Stick Figure Opera: 99 100-word Prose Poems from Cajun Mutt Press. He co-edits the online journals Unbroken and UnLost.