Poetry. Cross a waterfall with a cave, and you get the poetry of John Goode. His poems occupy a turbulent landscape, ghosted with shadows, full of movement. They are dangerous, craggy, sensuous, and vulnerable. The cascade of his surreal images and wild juxtapositions are disorienting in the best possible way. Somewhere between post modernism and mystic realism, his rapid fire similes weave neon tapestries of urban social decay and heartbreak covering...