Hardly poetry. I like mine bland, burned, & free from eccentricities. Just a slab of charred meat on toughened bun. What I’m used to: protest verse for my intestines, thin mat on a steel slab. He goes burger also, prefers juicy, adding leafy accoutrements on top. I like the thought of a world … Continue reading
Tag Archives: Ace Boggess
In Deference to the Thunderstorm — Ace Boggess
a squirrel drinks from the fountain after rain wet mouth browned to a hobo’s five-o’clock shadow Continue reading
The Lie of the Stones — Ace Boggess
He couldn’t tell if it were a hillock or another grave. Bernard stepped up the slight rise, black shoes digging into the mud and wet grass. Streaks of brown already coated the legs of his ashen slacks like flames painted on the side of some jock’s sports car. Luckily though, the rain stopped around twilight, … Continue reading
Coe Review 