Ace Boggess' Poems
Why Can't You Rest Now That the Work Is Over?
Been watching this movie for two years,
entranced by colors piercing shading.
There's an adventure in dreams
the TV shares with my subconscious.
Can't predict where movie & dream
will merge, what part of me lies awake,
anticipating the performance,
my next running-for-my-life.
Ponder insecurities: sometimes, I can't breathe;
sometimes, hope leaves me trembling.
All of it bridges the film to sleep.
Besides, work doesnt end.
It continues like a subplot, a minor character
with a single line repeated when pinwheels burn.
What Will You Make of the Evidence?
Alina Stefanescu, To You Whom I Fail
No further judgment need be rendered.
I said I did it by being there.
Could? Did. Shouldn't have,
but there were other forms of blues than these.
in a gospel of justifications.
I've shivered before the court &
asked for mercy. Nothing came.
How Often Do You Get the Social
and Emotional Support You Need?
No time for depression
when everyone else
calls for help &
I busy myself
holding the phone.
I'd rather be a caricature
than a character. Let me
wear the clown face:
no one need care
if I fall down stairs,
trip on my
I'll be there,
my bucket of
sawdust & gritty smiles.
American International Pictures, et al., 1979
the end of the world is coming,
went. We saved a few
along the way,
though not before New York
(as ever) fell,
Hong Kong drowned
beneath the rising nightmare
of the sea. Of course,
Sean Connery's an asshole,
but he's righta bad combination
except when time to get things done,
cooperate with an enemy.
How skillfully he seduces
the Russian translator—
he has someone to protect.
How he convinces us &
the Soviets to point
missiles away from Earth
toward the asteroid,
preventing two catastrophes
as if his god asked,
Do I look fat in this universe?
to which he answered No &