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Staring at the Sun |
by Howie Good
There's something else
I should be doing
but the sun allows
what state law prohibits
a heart with manual transmission
and I've always been partial
to polite dissent
my eighth-grade math teacher
when she confiscated the laser light
said You could blind someone
Exactly I said
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Small Dogs Live Longer |
by Howie Good
A double-yellow line
means one thing
when you're driving
on this side of the border,
but another
when you're the passenger,
your hands lying
uselessly in your lap
and the bored children
in the back seat foolishly
insisting on asking,
as the road drifts north
and then disappears
among the barbwire trees,
why you named them
for people who were dead.
Howie Good is a journalism professor at the State University of New York at New Paltz, is the author of eight poetry chapbooks, including Tomorrowland (2008) from Achilles Chapbooks and Love Is a UFO (2009) from Pudding House. He has been nominated three times for a Pushcart Prize and twice for the Best of the Net anthology. You can drop in on him at apocalypsemambo.blogspot.com.
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