1. when the school nurse takes my temperature 
my hair flushes up golden and her spirit wraps me 
warmer than my own mother—an embryo in a bowl of fur 

2. i am too old to be this drunk—surges of tequila 
with every new guest and my young daughter doesn’t know 
why my numb lips limp—she glares at me and i disappear 

3. in the victorian hotel i feel the prostitutes staring 
they whistle light through 150 years of keyholes 
grasping the door handle out of my hands as i try to leave 

4. my father is dying—chemo sweating his sheets 
i drive to see him and my dead grandmother visits me 
in my car—the light leaking out of the vehicle 

5. the trees glow in the afternoon smoke 
a choir lifting the burn—a distant fire 
but no words—this golden eel—my tongue 

Publisher’s Note:

To learn more about the genesis and rules of this new poetic form, see:
Gleam: Journal of the Cadralor.

Scott Ferry

As an RN in the great Pacific Northwest, Scott Ferry helps our Veterans heal. In other lives, he taught English and practiced acupuncture. He also serves as Senior Editor at Gleam: Journal of the Cadralor, and 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. His first collection, The only thing that makes sense is to grow, was published by Moon Tide Press in December 2019. His second book, Mr. Rogers kills fruit flies, is now available from Main Street Rag.

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