Howard Good

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My Life in Brief

I breathe on my hands
wonder what’s happened to the weather
say shhh don’t cry shhh
look for a picture of the person
I’ve been told I resemble
change trains wake up tired
and still trying to think
of another word for all this.

Let’s disappear, Barbara,
in a giant whoosh of flame

and look back and laugh
at the scribble of our smoke trail.

For once, let’s not answer
the questions at the end of the chapter,

or even phone in to work,
but just climb the twisted ladder

of bones and shadows,
and if we must get somewhere,

let’s do it secretly
like your lost gold earring.

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