At the Movies

by Howie Good

I squint at the screen to avoid seeing in gore-soaked detail what is about to emerge from the house made of human skulls. Annoyingly, the guy sitting behind me keeps crossing and uncrossing his legs and kicking the back of my seat. No one can say for sure how Jesus’s predicted return to Earth would shake the hierarchy of the Marvel Universe. In the meantime, a cowboy appears over the horizon on a dapple-gray. He has a face like cracked leather from reading by the flickering light of campfires all 688 pages of Finnegans Wake. “There’s some things,” he tells his horse, “a man just can’t ride around.”


Howie Good is the author most recently of the poetry collection Gunmetal Sky (Thirty West Publishing).