Three Poems by Ace Boggess

 

 

 

“What’s the Market Look Like for Sexy?” 

 

        question asked by Grace Welch  

 

 

Depends on where you send it. 

Some editors won’t touch it, 

afraid of flack they’ll catch 

like friendly fire at an orgy. 

Descriptions lurid?  

Linnear bodies insincere?  

Give your gent a hat, 

your lady a fan to bring herself 

in & out of focus. 

 

 

 

“Is It Time to Laugh?” 

 

        question asked by Tanya Rakh 

 

 

Death overwhelms the joke 

by being in the joke, the joke 

swallowing itself from within 

like a smiley-faced ulcer.  

Laughter is the joke atoms tell  

among themselves, 

atoms immortal until their sides split, 

those jokers. At what do you laugh  

when sadness moans?   

There is no joke too gross for grief. 

The funeral will be a farce. 

We force ourselves into a box, 

straight-faced & yearning 

for release. Take this 

as your permission slip, 

passport, letter of marque.  

Drink the joke like rum, 

cry out, carouse, continue. 

 

 

 

“What Is the Right Kind of Trouble?” 

 

        question asked by Savannah Dudley   

 

 

It has many names in the vulgar tongue, 

each for a different occupation. 

 

It wants to be a story arc 

following to completion, 

 

although in poetry it’s the lie 

that makes our metaphors most real 

 

on death, childhood struggles,  

absence of light, then finally fire.

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, watches Criterion films, and tries to stay out of trouble. His forthcoming books include poetry collections, My Pandemic / Gratitude List from Mōtus Audāx Press and Tell Us How to Live from Fernwood Press, and his first short-story collection, Always One Mistake, from Running Wild Press.