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.
The Zingara Project 