It begins with the flies. Noisy, black flies. I do not know exactly when.

That’s why you must educate your nerves. The interrogator, face full of stubble, repeatedly smashes the suspect’s head against the wall, yet never asks if there’s school tomorrow, if the light is on at Krispy Kreme, if animals can think. Most men just like killing stuff. They give their secret impulses whimsical names, such as “All the Submarines of the United States of America.” Blood is 92 percent water.




And So On

You want to know what actually happened. That’s simple: the story of the suitcase was true, but the painting wasn’t in it. The next 48 hours are going to be crucial. Light a match and watch till it goes out. Things progress when there’s a mistake. In Indiana the other day a clown was shot in the face. Just some guy driving past shot him. I wondered how anyone could let that happen to himself. Oh well. Descendants of Marcel Duchamp sold snowballs on the street.






You stand up here and it’s just like a highway. I’m surprised. There were years I couldn’t even get my friends to look. We are a nation of tired drivers. So few seem to pay any attention to the moon. In the spring this will be brimming with hemlock, and all the trees will be filled with flowers. If you think it could be but then say, “No, it's not like that,” go with your initial instinct. The bees will be able to fly about nine miles to find good food. However small that may seem, isn’t it beautiful?




Howie Good is the author of The Loser's Guide to Street Fighting, winner of the 2017 Lorien Prize from ThoughtCrime Press, and Dangerous Acts Starring Unstable Elements, winner of the 2015 Press Americana Prize for Poetry.