|
Howie Good |
|
Police and Questions |
Love During Wartime |
|
|
|
Time to crack open that bottle the previous tenant bequeathed us. We can drink to whatever you want – lack of sleep, importunate prayers, another day of freedom from the landlord’s fretful knock – then tumble into bed, our bones loosened, our minds in happy disarray, despite, or perhaps because, it’s now light, and there’s a kind of war outside our window, and the invisible sniper in the gaunt bell tower is always watching with bloodshot eyes for a clean shot.
|
|
