by Ace Boggess
Question asked by Sarena Fox.
At night, I can
turn the world
to darkness
with a twist,
no having to
tie a sock
around my eyes.
Friday, I walked a lap
of the yard. Just one.
It wasn’t the same.
Who says I have
adjusted, found
a warming bed &
new games to play?
Back then, I napped &
dreamt myself
outside the walls;
now I sometimes
dream myself back in.
Ace Boggess is 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. His seventh collection, Tell Us How to Live, is forthcoming in 2024 from Fernwood Press.
Hawaii Pacific Review 