Howie Good: Salty Hallelujahs and Wounded History
Image: Unsplash, downloaded (https://unsplash.com/photos/zHDvQNnKEps) 31.10.2021. Beatific My father beat me when I fell and chipped a tooth, my mother when I used our Black maid’s hairbrush. “Someday you’ll thank me,” my mother said as I fought back tears. Someday wasn’t today. Today my tongue was too busy exploring the shimmery slit down there. I can still taste you, the surprising saltiness of hallelujahs. Dead Language In the surviving fragment of his book On Analogy, Jul