Tag: New World Order

Three Poems by Howie Good

~ ONE ART ~ Leave a comment

A Dog’s Life

What I remember happening probably didn’t happen quite as I remember it. I was only 4, maybe 5, playing with toy cars and trucks on the sidewalk. A stray dog – a big, brutish German shepherd mix – appeared out of nowhere. They say dogs can sense fear. That frightening dog sensed mine. It snarled from deep within its Nazi guard dog heritage and then snapped at my face. Everything went black. The next thing I remember is mom, a kid herself, scooping me up in her arms and staggering down the street covered in my blood. Time is a funny thing. Seventy years later, in the dark gray of a winter twilight, I pull against my collar, a dog on a chain.

*

Wedding Song

The most popular wedding song in the spring of 1973 was “We’ve Only Just Begun (White Lace and Promises)” by the brother-sister duo, The Carpenters. Its sentimental lyrics set to a simple melody appealed to both the soft of heart and the soft in the head. Our wedding song was Simon and Garfunkel’s “Bridge Over Troubled Water.” Although we were young – just 21 – we were old enough to realize white lace can yellow and fray and promises be broken. Call it cosmic pessimism if you want; philosophers do. So much that exists exists in contradiction. The moon shines despite being barren rock, and in Alabama frozen embryos are considered children.

*

New World Order

It’s the belated end of the American Century. You can hear the slow, monotonous ticking of the cooling engine. A self-proclaimed king and his coterie of sociopaths have recast the culture in their own distorted image without so much as a “pardon me.” The lamp beside the golden door has been extinguished. Human bones are used in soups. Breathing is frequently a struggle. A fine black thread of anxiety runs through everything. I cope, but just barely, and only by exceeding the maximum daily recommended dosage. My face, with its worry lines and age wrinkles, is like a signed confession. Some things are crimes even if the cops don’t have to be called.

*

Howie Good is a widely published but little-known author. His latest poetry collection, True Crime, is due out in March from Sacred Parasite.

New World Order by Kip Knott

~ ONE ART ~ 5 Comments

New World Order

When I wake up this morning, it dawns on me
that I haven’t heard from Normal in a while.

The last time Normal called, it was on summer vacation.
Somewhere in the Canadian Rockies quietly flyfishing,

if I remember correctly. I recall that it didn’t say,
“Wish you were here,” which, in hindsight, seems odd.

And now it’s been months without so much as a word.
No calls. No texts. Nothing. So I’m left questioning

everything. Like, where does that leave me?
Where does that leave Normal? Alone

in some liminal space between today and tomorrow?
Between what Normal used to be, whatever this new reality is,

and whatever Normal will be if it returns?
Did I ever really know Normal at all?

Will I even recognize Normal? Will Normal embrace me
with open arms, or will it say I’ve become abnormal

and report me to the authorities?
I try to calm down by losing myself

in the minutia of daily chores. I vacuum and dust.
I clean out the fridge of leftovers I always mean to eat

but never do. I even breakdown all the Amazon boxes
I’ve received over the last days and weeks, boxes
that were filled with all manner of products

I was too afraid to venture out of the house and buy
on my own. But as I begin knitting a scarf

to welcome Normal back, should it decide to return,
the newsfeed scrolling across my flatscreen highlights

events in the outside world: more executive orders;
more firings; more plans to rename this and take back that;

more news stories of blind eyes turned.
I snap off the TV, pack away my needles and yarn,

and shuffle off to bed. Perhaps Normal is better off
where it is, I think as I sink deeper into the dark

well of a pill-induced dreamless sleep. Perhaps
Normal should remain incommunicado

and untraceable for its own protection. Perhaps
“out of sight, out of mind” is best for Normal,

and me, at least for the foreseeable future.

*

Kip Knott is a writer, poet, teacher, photographer, and part-time art dealer living in Ohio. His writing has recently appeared in Bending Genres, Best Microfiction 2024, The Greensboro Review, HAD, Merion West, ONE ART, and The Wigleaf Top 50. His most recent book of stories, Family Haunts, is available from Louisiana Literature Press. You can follow him on Bluesky at @kiptain.bsky.social and read more of his work at www.kipknott.com.