April 24, 2012

Two poems by Howie Good

Red Wings

Words require more words to interpret them.
There’s a tornado somewhere as well,
obsessively rehearsing what it’s going to do.
I’m flecked with exclamation points
and long, unexplained absences.
So much so, two red wings on the porch
are all that’s left of the cardinal the cat killed.

A Death in the Family

A kitchen chair
sits empty

out under an enormous
chestnut tree

whose right hand
has lost
its cunning.

Howie Good, a journalism professor at SUNY New Paltz, is the author of the new poetry collection, Dreaming in Red, from Right Hand Pointing. All proceeds from the sale of the book go to a crisis center, which you can read about at the site below. He is also the author of numerous chapbooks, including most recently The Devil’s Fuzzy Slippers from Flutter Press and Personal Myths from Writing Knights Press. He has another chapbook, Fog Area, forthcoming from Dog on a Chain Press.

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