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by Howie Good

It used to be a beach. There was sea. There were rocks. I used to fish. I used to see seagulls everywhere. But today there are none. Of course, I miss them. They were entertainment for us, watching them fly.


Failure to follow these warnings could cause serious injury or death. Nearly every night I have catastrophic dreams of swastikas, Trump, border stops. I speak to the eye. I speak for trees. You only hear the monotonous sound of the red sun gnawing at the spider. The bassoon is an instrument that deserves more respect.


WTF?! Spies are everywhere. “Grawlixes,” they reported me as saying. I don’t know exactly when I’m supposed to have said it. The very first thing I do in the morning after waking up is take a pill that “may cause drowsiness.” And that isn’t necessarily a time to wear party hats. I just felt I had to do it.


Someone is throwing a stone at a bird. Oh good God, that guy! I look a little bit like him. Were you there? Did you witness it? Then you can kind of quietly approach people and go, “Understand? Understand? Understand?”

The first section is a remix of quotes from this New York Times article.

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 Opens from Another New Calligraphy. He co-edits White Knuckle Press with Dale Wisely.