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The Most Remarkable Substance Ever


All proceeds from Howie Good's latest book of poetry, Fugitive Pieces (Right Hand Press), go to the Food Bank of the Hudson Valley.

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By Howie Good

Hundreds line the street in excited anticipation. A photographer, a black drape over his head, is about to snap a picture of a skinny guy hoisting himself up onto a cross. I have returned repeatedly throughout the process, encountering the same insults, the same anachronistic aesthetics, the same darkness in the same unknown. It’s hard work being stranded at the end of the industrial age with a McDonald’s meal and something you can never really be sure is there, the most remarkable substance ever, a kind of thunderstorm blue. But the terrible part isn’t how cold it is. No, it’s how much I tremble.