Some Distance Yet to Go
It’s raining when I’m ready for the road,
highways glossy as butterscotch discs,
hills misted like a lake at 2 a.m.
I’m on my way to you, &
you have no sense of the dangerous world,
the waiting aberrations
with invisible claws & teeth like serrated silver.
Morning is a harsh time for the road
between us, gray-black hospital curtains pulled
between us. What is fear
against the possibility of reunion?
What is death but a canyon to be leapt,
a path through forests best avoided.
No, no, I’m leaving now, & the storm
can push against me like desire.
Tired
One of your guys told me
if I brought my car in early,
you might have time to discover
what’s going on with my left front tire.
Has a slow leak: three weeks
before it trips the sensor.
Yes, yes, I’ve checked for nails.
Of course, I can’t see
the other side, the hidden things,
older parts of the universe,
the thousand faces of god,
the copperhead beneath dry leaves.
Where am I going with this?
I mean, nowhere without repairs.
Can you help? Here, take this
money—it’s all I have
to pay the boatman
to carry me into mystery.
Gratitude List #39
Forgive me when I praise my wealth
of mornings when I don’t awaken
achy on a steel cut
to the sound of a guard shouting Count.
Praise yesterday & the day before.
Praise last week when I hit Snooze twice & overslept.
Praise this last magnificent October &
the many lovely prior ones
when I could view colors
not framed by a wall & razor wire.
I’ve been out longer than I was in,
a thing I never thought would happen.
Praise the years between. I praise them.
Praise tomorrow
when I’ll wake with calm,
already having put aside my praise
for untroubled moments before dawn.
Ace Boggess
Ace Boggess is author of six books of poetry, most recently Escape Envy. His writing has appeared in Indiana Review, Michigan Quarterly Review, Notre Dame Review, Hanging Loose, and other journals. An ex-con, he lives in Charleston, West Virginia, where he writes and tries to stay out of trouble. His seventh collection, Tell Us How to Live, is forthcoming in 2024 from Fernwood Press.
Header image by engin akyurt.