Fall 2011

Volume 6, Issue 2



Whom Pain Has Brought to Despair But Not Yet to Death


If this was a movie, I’d be chased down a dark alley, find a body in my hotel room, get ridiculed when I told the police what I knew or at least suspected. But it’s not, the morning light the approximate putty color of dull pain. Something knocks twice upon my heart without entering. I give up trying to go back to sleep. Clio, goddess of history, drinking her coffee from a skull mug downstairs, looks forward to a future very like the past. 



Order Lovesick, a poetry collection by Howie Good here.



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© 2011 Americana: The Institute for the Study of American Popular Culture