The E is for Existential Coyote crossed cliff's edge, didn't drop before pause to diagnose as though he must scent gravity to be bound by it: the in-itself/for-itself falling: later, coyote-shaped crater in painted mud. Coyote would rise again to replicate his misadventures: blown up, face smashed against the blunt-pawed portrait of a tunnel. How foolish one acts when starving, helpless beside this blistering highway somewhere between birth & Albuquerque 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, J Journal, Harvard Review, North Dakota Quarterly, and other journals. An ex-con, he lives in Charleston, West Virginia, where he writes and tries to stay out of trouble.
Like the title says.