When I went hungry, I slept less.
Roused by hummingbirds at 4:00 a.m.
to add sugar to my blood.

Today, I rest to the luxury of dozing,
wait for news of our survival.  Slow bleed
of light around the shades,

my mind’s graffitied chug
like box cars on a train.
That my skin cracks open feels significant.

Forced air heat blasting through the vents.
I buy jugs of distilled water
to feed my humidifier, take too-long showers

mouth agape, inhaling the steam.
Persistent itch, abrasion with bullhorn,
subcutaneous alarm.

—

Micki Blenkush lives in St. Cloud, MN.  She was selected as a 2017-2018 Loft Literary Center’s Mentor Series fellow in poetry and was a 2015 recipient of a Central MN Arts Board Emerging Artist Grant.  Her writing has recently appeared in: Cagibi, Typishly, and Crab Creek Review.