by Howie Good
I give you burning towers
as a source of light.
I give you green troops
to plug a gap
that mutinies and desertions
have torn in the line.
I give you a Christmas tree farm
that is continuously crying.
I give you expired pills,
a book on death,
something machine-made
but sexy to wear.
I give you another day
of me explaining
night with my hands.
Howie Good, a journalism professor at the State University of New York at New Paltz, is the author of 12 poetry chapbooks, including most recently My Heart Draws a Rough Map from The Blue Hour Press and Ghosts of Breath from Bedouin Books. He has been nominated four times for a Pushcart Prize and five times for the Best of the Net anthology. His first full-length collection of poetry, Lovesick, has just been published by Press Americana. He is co-editor of the online literary journal Left Hand Waving.
___________________________________________