Contributor: JD DeHart

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Good old boy
from the good old boy ilk —
but then, who do I call good?

A slick hairdo, tooth-gleaming
grin? Even lions have those.
A family crest? We have seen
a soiled history of proud names
hiding hatred in white canvas.

Prince of a guy might turn
out to be Prince of cats. Betraying
by the third act. A Judas kiss
with all the promises mouths make.

A friend for eleven years suddenly
proves to be an enemy or just
ambivalent; creatures wrapped up
in two-minute blips of ambition.

But then what is the good,
and how do I name it?


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My book of poems, A Five-Year Journey, has recently been published by Dreaming Big Publications.