Monday, December 20, 2021

Aleathia Drehmer Amidst The Hyparxis, The OCD Fingers, The Bad Viral Movie Lines, And The Vaulting Spines Of Ferrets

Dismembered

Sleep (Study 1)

Nightmares

turn life


upside down


creating hyparxis


twofold, and inversely


you

stand there


an inflated representation


of the man I love


nonchalantly telling me


your brain is near bleeding;


your life, measured.


What disturbs me most


is how I go about my routine,


OCD fingers in their motions


rotating stacks of papers


and books; double checking


keys jingling in my pocket


while your existence


hangs in the balance.



Dismembered

Sleep (Study 2)



it’s

a bad movie line


gone viral


            --dude where’s my car?—


frantic pacing


waiting for it to appear


in the sea of concrete



you tell me I parked


by the river


your brain is dying--


flesh sagging and 


progeric


i’m running through fields


to get to the water


legs made of lead


cumbersome


unending



how will you forgive me?


how will I forgive myself?



Dismembered

Sleep (Study 3)



At

the river’s edge


I see it—the grey goose


only more compact


and incredibly wedged


between concrete walls.


Black

boys fish on the shore


poles dipping the surface


pretending to whip flies


like those redneck boys.


The

water churns violently,


not with trout or perch,


but with vaulting spines


of ferrets—teeth bared


and angry.


I

roll up my pants


to cross the water.


It is my only chance


to save you.


Aleathia Drehmer was once the editor of Durable Goods and In Between Altered States, but now spends most of her time writing novels. She has recently published poems in Rusty Truck, Spillwords, Piker Press, Anti-Heroin Chic, and Cajun Mutt Press. Aleathia has upcoming work in 58 Poetry. Her first full-length collection Looking for Wild Things (Impspired) is due out later this year.  www.aleathiadrehmer.com