i see my son bear down and grunt 
with some effort as i just placed 
a new diaper on him 

i implore: “fart or poop?” 
he parrots: “fart or poop?” but 
with an exaggerated intonation 

as if the entire schemata of being 
could be answered with this one 
query 

there was no solid in the diaper 
for now just another ghost 
in the body escaping 

meaning 

—Previously published on the poet’s Facebook page (1 February 2022)

Scott Ferry

helps our Veterans heal as an RN in the Seattle area. In former lives, he taught high school, managed aquatic centers, and practiced acupuncture. His writing appears in American Journal of Poetry, Cultural Weekly, KYSO Flash, MacQueen’s Quinterly, Misfit, Noble/Gas Qtrly, Slippery Elm, Spillway, and Swimming with Elephants, among others.

He is the author of four books of poetry: These Hands of Myrrh, is now available from Kelsay Books. His first collection, The only thing that makes sense is to grow (Moon Tide Press, 2019), Mr. Rogers kills fruit flies (Main Street Rag, 2020), These Hands of Myrrh (Kelsay Books, 2021), and Sea of Marrow (Ethel Press, 2021). He has two books forthcoming in 2022: fishmirror from Alien Buddha Press and Skinless in the Cereal Aisle from Impspired.

Author’s website: https://ferrypoetry.com