Gratitude List #49 

Forgive me when I praise my wealth  
of wounds that teach me greater good. 

Scars across four fingers & a thumb 
remind me I’m a poor criminal & 
A-plus addict, the worst possible combo. 

Back that locks when I bend to take off socks 
reminds me that there’s no right way 
to change a flat with rusted lugs. 

Left knee reminds me not to take a fall 
on chilly stone of a jailhouse floor; 
if I must get in a fight, don’t leave my feet. 

Right, grinding like a pestle, reminds me  
I’ve eaten too many sweets, pizzas, 
greasy fast-food burgers, fries. 

The hole in my septum reminds me 
not to snort powder from dinner plates, 
instead to savor scents of warm bread, 
spaghetti sauce, perfume, coffee, petrichor. 

Praise texts my body writes— 
I learn from them daily, keep an open mind. 

ACE BOGGESS

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.