Howie Good


A train chugs into the station like the haggard remnant of a curious dream. There’s no way to calculate the amount of stress this causes. New conscripts with chalky white faces are prodded aboard. The street musicians put down their instruments and walk away. To get a blood-red sunset, you need soot and smoke. It’s pollution that makes the sky beautiful. Out of respect for the process naked women assume strange positions. A scarf found yesterday on the sidewalk may belong to one of them. 

Howie Good is the recipient of the 2015 Press Americana Prize for Poetry for his collection Dangerous Acts Starring Unstable Elements