Howie Good

H o w i e   G  o o d 

The Shadow of an Airplane Crosses the Empire State Building

First thing every morning after waking up, I take a pill that may cause drowsiness. The darkness begins to peel away in long, uneven strips, exposing patches of brighter darkness underneath. Later, I’ll feel as I often do, like a candle eavesdropping on sunlight. Going up on the escalator, a vague little man who reminds me of me will hug a bag from Infinity Shoes to his chest. I’ll have the sense that anyone who isn’t a victim is a suspect. In infinity shoes, you could, theoretically, walk forever.

Communism, Hypnotism, and the Beatles

All property is theft – worse even than the breakup of the Beatles. I search YouTube for the movie they never should have made. In it, Prussian police spies trail Lennon across nighttime Paris to secret meetings with a couple of chorus girls and Karl Marx. I watch in anxious expectation of the end of everything that means anything. Hell comes in so many different sizes. I lean farther and farther out to get a better view of the hypnotic green flames.

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