2 poems by Evan Iresmith

Automatic

Hello, again. Remember the last time
you were held correctly. Got it? Now

isolate the small intake of breath com-
monly associated with fear—or, in this

case, surrendering to soft, unknown, fea-
thery depths. You’re allowed to breathe.

You might even desire change. Go ahead:
Make a half life of half glistenings—an

upside, a worry, the mac and cheese and
grit left over from nuclear spring. Congrat-

ulations: You’ve escaped a kind of risk.
You’ve merged into this bright yellow

idiom that outshines empathy, and hurt, and
turned, like almost any body, away from her.

 

Third Nature

Our love’s a temporary tattoo
of, I don’t know, one raindrop

on the tongue of an anteater
here, sadly, not eating ants

but wanting very much to feel
as much as the world has to

offer, e.g., the taste & texture
of one tiny droplet on a livid,

slight tongue, if not the wine
& donuts of our citified perch,

the breeze-drifted flyers of cor-
ner shops & helicopter seeds,

nor these silly human wrists
we dampen, touch, & uncover.

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Published by

Jeremiah Walton

Oi ! I’m Jeremiah Walton. For the past ~3 years I’ve been bopping around the U.S. between hitchhiking + rubber tramping, running traveling bookstore Books & Shovels + indie publisher Nostrovia! Press. My focus is in-person distribution at open mics + features + busking. Word of mouth is a fulfilling & feels to be a more intimate promotional process. I’ve featured at the NYC Poetry Festival + San Francisco Lit Crawl + Snoetry Cleveland + Beast Crawl Oakland + This Lil Lit Fest + street corners across the country. There’s a handful of my books floating around the country, but most recently is “From Here Til Utopia” (Ghost City Press). Raccoons + coyotes are my companions. Hope you dig the poems, much love, thank you❤

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