Home > Journaling the Apocalypse > Everything Simple Becomes Complex

Everything Simple Becomes Complex

December 14, 2008

The phones are dead, our children, unreachable,
unless that’s one of them crying in the street.

Everything simple has become complex.
I should’ve known we’d be abandoned

to vandals and the weather,
and, before heartbreak had vaporized,

admitted to the priesthood of grief,
but my thoughts were taken up with other things,

the advantages of probity versus confession.
Now the three-legged black dog next door,

moved by the poor moon’s blistered face,
growls all night in grisly sympathy.

by Howie Good

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  1. December 14, 2008 at 6:47 pm

    Everything about this is good from the title to “grisly sympathy.”

  2. December 15, 2008 at 9:56 am

    An excellent post. It is evenly good all the way through.

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