Nondescript house not standing out:
bland beige brick on a brick-bland street,
cops driving by because this used to be
a bad part of town. Here we are
at the home of two middle-aged men
who sell incense, share a bowl of scented pebbles—
lavender & apple—
for customers to run their hands through,
soothing cool & smoothly reassuring.
Everywhere readers ply their craft
at twenty bucks a pop
like shares of opium futures.
I prefer ice cream, but Grace
needs a day of peace from her subconscious
that mocks & jabs with its jagged spears.
When she returns from her session,
she seems more easygoing—
less skittish rabbit, angry badger,
despondent stranded dolphin on the beach.
I won’t ask about her future.
Nobody already told me, but I know.
About the Author: Ace Boggess is author of six books of poetry, most recently Escape Envy (Brick Road Poetry Press, 2021). His poems have appeared in Michigan Quarterly Review, Harvard Review, Mid-American Review, River Styx, and other journals. An ex-con, he lives in Charleston, West Virginia, where he writes and tries to stay out of trouble.
More by Ace Boggess:
Image Credit: Willem Witsen “Hand met gespreide vingers (1874 – 1923)” Image Courtesy of Artvee (public domain)