An interconnected family of supernovas burning bright in the night sky: take a moment, reach out—join us.
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.