caterpillar piss is the color

by Cody Gohl

Caterpillar piss is the color

of Ben and Taylor’s house. A violent green that shrieks in waves of yellow and chartreuse. It shouldn’t work but it does. Their yard is full of trash they’ve spray painted gold and their sink is full of trimmed mustache hairs. Oh this glamor tide pool in which they fester. Oh this feathered doll house, this rococo hive of powdered wigs and three-legged chairs and smoldering sandalwood. I’ve been duct-taped to the wreck since I first met them and I know a sandy death awaits me. So be it — anchor me with fake Chanel and drag me to the depths — let jellied fish gorge on all the sequined eleganza, let this fagged out bleat carry us against the gray and grayer world.

Photo of Cody Gohl

BIO: Cody Gohl is a Brooklyn-based writer exploring queerness, belonging, family, and the odd bits of meaning that leap out of life’s most mundane moments. By day, he works for New York City’s leading anti-hunger organization; by night, he tinkers with his forthcoming collection of poems, January 2034.