Howie Good

Re: Vision
“I’ll lick stamps,” I told the gargoyle from HR during the job interview. “I’ll lick whatever you want.” He shook his big, ugly head no. And as quick as that, I found myself back on the street. It had just started to rain when Jesus appeared. My first thought was that he looked nothing like his picture. 
Horror is everywhere. If you go searching for some way to escape, you’ll just end up in a 24-hour McDonald’s beside a woman with fangs and a mustache. I’m not there even when I am, head crooked to the right, as if listening to the Carter Family sing “Wildwood Flower” via my metal fillings.
You who believe the most astounding lies, who wipe your behind and then sniff your fingers, the moon could look to you some nights like a shiny gold button dangling on a loose thread, but it never does.

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