written by Ace Boggess
Forget you have seen this before:
man standing, head bowed, in the rain
because sadness is a metaphor
to him; man smirking at his own wit
as he springs the trap, escapes it;
woman left, loving, slain, controlling;
child of uncertain race sent into the song &
dance of a gentleman’s necessary errands.
Let the black-&-white past awaken
that part of you once ripe with wonder
when a hubcap was a flying saucer &
the creature seemed monstrous
rather than sympathetic. Revisit
each Sherlock Holmes of another era.
Plead for his wisdom—meek, moving.
Remember there were dinosaurs
roaming hungrily under the earth.
Believe it as you ease yourself under:
your dreams shall wield more evidence
than unwelcome stories on the news.
Ace Boggess is author of four books of poetry, most recently I Have Lost the Art of Dreaming It So (Unsolicited Press, 2018) and Ultra Deep Field (Brick Road, 2017), as well as two novels. His poems have appeared in Harvard Review, Notre Dame Review, cream city review, Rattle, River Styx, and other journals. He received a fellowship from the West Virginia Commission on the Arts and also spent five years in a West Virginia prison.