Storm Clouds Over Fairmont
Ace Boggess

I’m in town to read poems about my troubles
“does it bother you
to talk about it?” someone asks
“no” I say “if I can’t feel
at home in my history
I’m a man with two faces staring at the sun”
not this sun
which hides
behind slow-
rolling cumulonimbus
while I stand outside
the hotel’s double doors to smoke— Continue reading “Ace Boggess, Winter 2017” →