Apocalypso

I wasn’t born with issues. I acquired them the way fish acquired limbs in order to walk on land. You didn’t know me back then. There were many laws, but few arrests. The news always seemed to be showing funerals. Blue was a different color. Prospective employers shook their heads when I told them I was self-taught. The motions of time got harder and harder to understand, like babushkas who drank a fifth a day. Perhaps I didn’t need friends. Perhaps what I needed were accomplices. A man I had just met offered me an unsolicited piece of advice: “Go fuck yourself.” I hurried off as if eager to try.

Howie Good, a journalism professor at SUNY New Paltz, is the author of the forthcoming poetry collection  The Middle of Nowhere (Olivia Eden Publishing) and the forthcoming poetry chapbooks The Complete Absence of Twilight (Mad Hat Press), Echo’s Bones and Danger Falling Debris (Red Bird Chapbooks), and An Armed Man Lurks in Ambush (unbound CONTENT).