Cameron Morse



Because of my October at the Department of Radiology,
the UMKC School of Dentistry turned me away
for a free screening. Because of my October
in the Department of Radiology, I developed pneumonia
from a head cold, and Urgent Care sent me
to the emergency room. Because of my October at the Department

of Radiology, my favorite holiday is Halloween
when the zombies of tomato plants rot at their stakes
and oak leaves unspindle from a spiral of branches, falling
head over heels to cowlick and constellate the yellow grass.
On Halloween I pause over the moon’s wounded gibbous,
the garden mums and pumpkins racked outside Walmart.

I love the throb of gaslights, the one red lamp
burning in the bay window of the abandoned house.
Stars prick the dark because of my October
at the Department of Radiology. Treetops hiss
like a breath sucked through clenched teeth.





Cameron Morse

Cameron Morse taught and studied in China. Diagnosed with a glioblastoma in 2014, he is currently a third-year MFA candidate at the University of Missouri—Kansas City and lives with his wife Lili and newborn son Theodore in Blue Springs, Missouri. His poems have been or will be published in over 100 different magazines, including New Letters, Bridge Eight, South Dakota Review, I-70 Review and TYPO. His first collection, Fall Risk, is available from Glass Lyre Press.