High Wind Advisory

Ace Boggess

**content warning: death**


As if snares the virus set

weren’t shark’s teeth

in the dark ocean,

as if anxiety stopped pissing

on our thoughts,

today there’s wind:

loud, repeating loads

from a Gatling gun.

It rifles weeds &

strewn debris, crying,

Mama, where are you?

while tearing the arms off oaks.


Storm system killed a few

in Mississippi yesterday.

Tornados. Jags

of serrated blades.


In West Virginia,

I’m waiting in isolation

for the power to go out

or not, an end to

the present threat.


Weatherman said

sheltering from the storm

supersedes sheltering

from the sick in quarantine.


Can only die once.

Wind is a pastor

full of righteousness &

wrath. It says,

Goodbye, you are

gone but not forgiven.

About the Author

Ace Boggess is the author of six books of poetry, including Escape Envy (Brick Road Poetry Press, 2021), I Have Lost the Art of Dreaming It So, and The Prisoners. His writing has appeared in Michigan Quarterly Review, Notre Dame Review, Harvard Review, Mid-American Review, and other journals. An ex-con, he lives in Charleston, West Virginia, where he writes and tries to stay out of trouble.