by Howie Good
We discuss in whispers how to do it, standing up or lying down or front to back. By the time we decide, the workers have returned from break and are attacking the building with sledgehammers and crowbars. Maybe tomorrow, she says, getting out of bed. I can barely hear her. Chunks of masonry are crashing from a great height to the street. Later on the news, there’ll be reports of blinding dust clouds, couples looking up just before being crushed and buried, an infant found crawling about the rubble in the elaborate harness of a seeing-eye dog.
Howie Good, a journalism professor at the State University of New York at New Paltz, is the author of six poetry chapbooks, most recently Tomorrowland (2008) from Achilles Chapbooks.