Goodbye to the Common Good 

        Goodbye to the Common Good               

 Good Lord!  a good supply of terms enclosed
Within the meaning of this busy word
Includes securities:  And I supposed
Would bring to light 10,000 more we’ve heard.

The list below I could manage
Within the space to some advantage:

Good credit means so much today
(but more, if they take it away.)
Good judgment lies more in abstention
Than carte blanche cards of false pretension.
“Good reasons why I buy,” you say,
Without the resources to  repay.
Good grief! Why everybody charge
from Good Housekeeping to goodbye barges.
Good health (spas) deliver the goods
And Christmas-time great plastic woods
Defy good taste but court the card,
That buys the wish of best regard.
Gee, I could name a million things
From Goodbar treats to Tolkien rings.

A good name is like gold.  I guess.
But why buy gold when cards cost less?
So I misjudge.  Sure, I confess
I’m hooked on puerile happiness.

I’m in a state of wedded bliss
Good lady? – why not my mister-ess!
He spends beyond what I can earn,
Counting my yearly tax return.

I want to leave this place for good
For some less nosey neighborhood.
I’m good and tired giving good reason
For good times in (and out of) season.”

Goodnight,

                from Mittie
11:00 p.m.
12/10/1987

The Curator’s Notes: This poem critiques how consumer capitalism corrupts language and values. The word “good”, which should point toward virtue, God, and moral excellence, has been so thoroughly commercialized that it becomes meaningless or actively harmful (enabling debt, bad judgment, marital conflict). The exhausted, almost hysterical tone suggests the poet recognized the trap but felt powerless to escape it. Unlike the other poems which seek virtue through discipline, this one expresses the difficulty of pursuing goodness in a culture that has weaponized the very word against genuine moral life. The informality (the signature, the timestamp, the conversational tone) makes this feel less like a formal devotional poem and more like a honest, frustrated journal entry. which may be exactly the point. Real goodness requires honest self-examination, even when it’s uncomfortable.