Author: Angela Doll

She’s gone now, probably
completed her transformation
into pure crust

Priests talk about the end of time—
how all this will burn.

But sometimes, time
strikes a deal with the living

It’s true: my dearest friend did not die
when I was in España

I write to you, for the first time,
after the year’s long ache.

The back door was my savior, leading me
To jade insertions of a picket fence

It came first to the waters. The shores thicken, nothing like life.

When diverse colours in a forest blend
the greens like olive emerald lime & jade

When our fathers
approached your
holy Mountain,
brushing a blade
of grass meant death.

by Ace Boggess No cable TV. No internet.No power this morning. Gas leak, gas leak, gas leak—how the walls begin to speakthrough their O face, holy. Foundation digs itself deeperunderneath…