Palm Reading

(little batter stickers)

I, an organic, levelheaded adherent of a prescription,
feel nonexistence overriding my skin like an ant,
spider webbing shoot or a single of my own hair follicles
tickling the neck back, or my shoulder, behind a knee
or at an ankle, I feel like whatever this feeling is
is inexpressible circa twitching quick scratches
of any of the aforementioned parts of me, kind of rubbing my nape
with my left palm and finger padding, I do not feel too
anxious or as a paranoiac, there is no withdrawal
I cannot quell easily enough, and of an undiagnosed epidermal malady
I know nothing, I don’t use topical applications such as Icy Hot,
I don’t have a flatland case of quivers of the anus, that vertigo,
for only at great heights am I afraid enough to play dead
like some opossum in a jumpsuit, in a ’coon’s nest,
parachute placenta hindering the progress,
I eat mac ‘n’ cheese from a box for Christ’s sake,
powder and rockhard pasta, must something be wrong,
some condition or conundrum, I’m turning up somewhere
unsavory, under some overpass, wedged up in the gutter
at the casket clearance space at the top of an incline
to sleep inches below an interstate, feeling semis hauling
colorful rusting containers of consumer goods rumble
to distribution centers in the relative middles of nowhere,
their suggestive Yosemite Sam mud flaps asway
waving narcoleptically as the fluid’s wiped from my nostril.
Cosmic Latte
Jerimee Bloemeke
Bloemeke_cover

Cosmic Latte

Jerimee Bloemeke

Floating Wolf Quarterly Cover_wolf
 
 
Cosmic Latte cover

Cosmic Latte

Jerimee Bloemeke


Copyright © 2013 Jerimee Bloemeke. All rights reserved.