Howie Good

H o w i e   G o o d 

Priorities

The gun loaded at the beginning of the universe

must go off by the end or no one gets to see

snow falling upwards and an oompah band bleeding

through the wounded Christ’s dressings.

There are more riddles than there are solutions,

and as to priorities, mine are down, down, up,

down, down, up, and dotted with burning peasant huts.

Look around. It’s officially spring, the first day of many

when apple-green taxis hit the trees head-on.

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