Hives

Hives
by Cody Clarke

I can make a fist
and when I do my hand looks normal
and more so the harder I squeeze
but then the itch sets in
and I must release

The red rushes
all across the back of my hand
in puffy splotches
like little Europes
to match the Asias down my arms

I am in hell
but looking in the mirror
and seeing Bukowski’s face
makes me smile