Cynthia Hogue



In Distrust of Good
        with a line by Wallace Stevens

A mind reasoning the good
in violence isn’t a good. Truth
wanders through its waving fields

of untruths, all alike grown tall
in the rich soil. "Who’s good?"
“Whose good?” the dead call beneath
gray trees with shorn branches.

An empty street, a dark house,
still, as if raided, and the life within
fled. The mind harboring

vengeance slips out of season,
heart’s munificent rule.
The good is evil’s last invention.
It casts aspersions like stones.



© 2005 Electronic Poetry Review