Ace Boggess: “Do I Look Like I Care?”

“Do I Look Like I Care?” 

    —man on cell in an elevator

Under tired Muzak he boasts

about infidelity & his lucky double-down bet

on a stock tip. Navy blue jacket,

striped shirt, red tie, beach-brown hair

slick like Danny’s in Grease,

cheeks tight against the bone like Bowie.

He looks like he cares about his image.

“Bad shit happens to good people,” he says,

voice feigning softness of his skin.

His phone partner can’t see the mocking grin,

how lips move when he laughs

without sound. To that faraway listener,

he looks like horizons color-wild with sunset,

clouds white. His face in the distance

could be an airplane shadow on a hill,

a crescent of early-rising moon,

an eagle looking like it cares for whatever

unfortunate field mouse finds its beak.

Ace Boggess