The elderly lady posing with an exuberant cactus said she could hear the snatches of doo-wop running through my head. I nodded as if I believed her. Meanwhile, the young parents were working frantically to collect the baby teeth scattered up and down the street. I watched with something like pity, but kept my hands hidden behind my back, well aware that once upon a time I might have felt the urge to help. It was a beautiful evening nonetheless, a kingdom of blue shadows and orange-tinted smoke, where gray buildings collapsed with a sigh and then slowly rebuilt themselves, only to collapse again.
Howie Good is the recipient of the 2015 Press Americana Prize for Poetry for his collection “Dangerous Acts Starring Unstable Elements”.
Your One Phone Call 