that died a cackling chicken’s death in the long grass
city of my law degree I put to good use in prison
city of my addiction to pills I carried from here
roving the spiral stiff with disappointment
look at you now spread out like an old man on his porch swing
a little wider at the hips & in the center
a few parts missing a few battle scars like mine &
look at me returning as your guest
broken into shards & stitched together with lines of verse
we are friends & enemies you & I
dealers of the darkness of possibility
like fortune tellers who—relegated to the fair—
cannot see the future for themselves
[+]
Ace Boggess is the author of two books of poetry: T
he Prisoners (Brick Road Poetry Press, 2014) and
The Beautiful Girl Whose Wish Was Not Fulfilled
Highwire Press, 2003). His writing has appeared
in Harvard Review, Mid-American Review, Atlanta
Review, RATTLE, River Styx, Southern Humanities
Review and many other journals. He live in
Charleston, West Virginia, and has appeared
on these pages before.
