Howie Good: Nothing Great About Being Dead

Howie Good: Nothing Great About Being Dead

ANOTHER PIECE OF USELESS ADVICE 

The same rain falling on us 
with dreary sincerity 
fell on the Great Dead, so-called 
despite there being nothing 
great about being dead. 
Write every day, I was taught. 
Better yet, the rain said, 
trigger various car alarms, 
and whatever the point of two 
or more exclamation points in a row is, 
browse the pawnshops 
and the green spray of hills, 
forgetting, if you can, the children 
at the gates of the orphanage. 

Editor’s note: This poem appeared in a previous issue.


Howie Good is the author of Dangerous Acts Starring Unstable Elements, winner of the 2015 Press Americana Prize. His latest book is A Ghost Sings, a Door Opensfrom Another New Calligraphy. He co-edits White Knuckle Press with Dale Wisely.