by Ace Boggess

To the bank, the drug-store, the ice-cream shop—
a quick circuit on your lunch break, &

I’m telling again my favorite anecdote
about how studies showed that after the Towers fell

attendance at religious services increased,
as did instances of promiscuous sex,

drug abuse, & for whatever reason,
sales & consumption of ice cream.

I like to think of these as the four stages of grief
not included on the traditional list.

We weren’t mourning the dead, their loss, but ours.
It was a year of debauchery & prayer.

Sweets, as well, like these we cradle on our laps
in flavors personal to each of us.

I wonder aloud what tragedy we’re escaping,
our mouths colder than those of the dead,

our innocence past-tense, erased,
as we play at happy travelers for an hour.

---

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.