By Howie Good
The roads are jammed with abandoned cars. High school kids beat on the cars with metal bats. Glass is flying everywhere. We could maybe handle a week of this, but it’s already been two weeks almost. I’ve tried everything I can. Even painkillers didn’t help. It’s nighttime and cold, and who owns the moon is a complicated subject.
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I put a stick in the ground, and stuff bubbles up. The situation is way beyond science. The whole night it’s slam, bang, boom. The things I see! Her scarf, the way it’s blowing in the wind, is just so beautiful. Someone ought to clap right there.
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It’s like a tornado went in and swept everything up. I was shocked. I didn’t think it would happen. Then it happened again. And again. There isn’t one tree still standing. We’re living off crap from vending machines. Give it a week, people are going to start looting. That’s just the kind of place this is. Everyone thinks I’m crazy. My answer is, “No, no, no!” Every space has light of some kind, but we act as if it isn’t there.
Howie Good is the author of The Loser’s Guide to Street Fighting, winner of the 2017 Lorien Prize and forthcoming from Thoughtcrime Press, and Dangerous Acts Starring Unstable Elements, winner of the 2015 Press Americana Prize for Poetry.
MoonPark Review 