“When Will Day Fall Open Again?” by Ace Boggess

—Breyten Breytenbach, “the blood on the doorposts” those straining-on-past-midnight hours insomniac hours daggering with a jagged edge those dragging-a-shovel-through-graveyard hours how they burn—each minute a minor panic before wrestling alligators holding breath amidst this a.m. waterboarding as dark asks “why did you do it?” & “what’s next for you after your innocence fails?” what have I left but to sit up in bed twist the light switch & fumble around for the TV remote? there’s news of some disaster it’s old news in the constant rewinding of CNN so I try to read a book but my eyes swear sleep as they scuttle in & out of vision like mice in the kitchen I call them liars then strain to doubt their authenticity robot psychics at the fair promising riches that never seem to come

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