Squat in the road, watching
one of the handymen
try to attach a board to the awning
where rotten wood has been cut away.
He can’t seem to get the angle, &
the shim keeps slipping
from behind, falling
to slap him lightly in the face
like a blown kiss from up close
or strands of golden pollen.
Isn’t life like that?
Reach for something higher
only to lose our grip,
see it come back at us
as if taunting? We go on,
one hand holding
what the other can’t quite hammer
into place. The second
handyman laughs in deep gulps,
having witnessed this scene before
as in a dream of his inadequacies
like showing up naked
for a history exam
when all he knows involves
math, physics, gravity.
Ace Boggess is the author of six books of poetry, most recently Escape Envy. His writing has appeared in the 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.