CAMERON MORSE

Water Glasses

I'm afraid of protein. I'm
afraid of what aid
too many sausage links may
supply my brain
tumor. However rich my life,
I will always want more
where that came from.
The more I drink, the thirstier
I am. Last night I found
three glasses waiting
in the study. I'm always looking
for my water
because I leave it everywhere:
on the coffee counter,
the piano, in the guest bedroom,
in the mailbox, yes,
the mailbox, like when Theo
takes off and I give
chase, not wanting to carry
anything on our walk
down the lane. I can go a while
without fear, walking along
Golfview Drive as if we didn't
have to get back in time
for breakfast, but then I pick up
my boy and carry him home.

Cameron Morse was diagnosed with a glioblastoma in 2014. With a 14.6 month life expectancy, he entered the Creative Writing Program at the University of Missouri—Kansas City and, in 2018, graduated with an M.F.A. His poems have been published in numerous magazines, including New Letters, Bridge Eight, Portland Review and South Dakota Review. His first poetry collection, Fall Risk, won Glass Lyre Press's 2018 Best Book Award. His latest is Baldy (Spartan Press, 2020). He lives with his wife Lili and two children in Blue Springs, Missouri, where he serves as poetry editor for Harbor Review. For more information, check out his Facebook page.