Religion
Raining hard, mist steaming off roof &
pavement, wind aswirl, thunder a series
of car wrecks in tunnels. I’m watching
disruptions of summer through a window,
thinking in an hour I’ll be out in that,
driving you thirty miles to the cupcake festival,
plying you with sweets: devil’s food,
red velvet, tiramisu, whatever attracts you.
Smiles will break like skyward flashes,
not erasing smudges on our lives right now,
but covering them with paint.
Pumpkin writes your name in icing.
There might be cinnamon coffee cake,
coconut, & the infrequent orange.
I’ll stick with vanilla, assuming weather
doesn’t cancel the party or leave us stranded.
We’ll find out soon after I collect you,
a soggy rat swimming for its life
or pleasure it senses ahead, dropped
like a crumb from the hand of a child god.
About the Author: Ace Boggess is author of six books of poetry, most recently Escape Envy. His writing has appeared in Indiana Review, Michigan Quarterly Review, Notre Dame Review, Harvard 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.
Image Credit: Raphaelle Peale “Sill Life with Cake” (1818) Public domain image courtesy of Artvee
As It Ought To Be 