To the Cockatoo Squid

Hidden naiad of the mesopelagic zone,
a modern Ariel waiting for Prospero’s
illusion to lift. Gelled by June’s incessant stew,
you loll, nonchalant, transparent as if suffused
with glass. You’ve separated from your squad.

Mist saturates the surface, smears the scene
to the delight of albatrosses. Your proteins—
krill, isopods, goby—float like bokeh
through a wide-shot of empty, mocha-dark
water. Nothing could dispel this mirage

save an angler’s spotlight or whale’s soliloquy.
Your “mantle cavity” boasts a solidity
from which a puff of ink may fume and burst;
though this ruse mimics a thespian curse,
the tempest keeps you in its entourage.

In the Keys

I know it from the forked tongue: Komodo
dragon, irritated by my proximity,
shedding patches of its flaking kimono.

My skin maintains its Ohioan affinity
for overcast. The sunburn splotched across
my chest makes it difficult to uphold my dignity

in Hooters (where those overstuffed bras
tout some Gen-Z pseudo-feminism).
My chicken sandwich oozes sticky sauce—

that is no innuendo or euphemism—
as I dip potato wedges in bleu cheese.
This time of year, the archipelago’s tourism

clogs up bars like plaque in the arteries.
It’s game day. Frat boys and bikers
claim the booths and gorge on greasy

drumsticks, their fantasies not unlike
the ranch drips objectifying their chins.
Is this the trick—to counterstrike?—

to take what’s cast upon you and send it
back with lip or crude remark
or a proverb from the Book of Beatrice:

“I had rather hear my dog bark
at a crow, than a man swear he loves me.”
I watch the homely, bearded patriarch

throw back a shot and spy the whiskey-sniffing
white-collar who seems wired
for baccarat and fraud (or homewrecking).

I know it from his forehead, the tired
droop of his fine lines: everything retains
characteristics of its previous environment.

I’m molting the skin built up from all of mine.

Chloe Cook is a poet from Kentucky. She holds a BA in English from Northern Kentucky University, and her work is featured or forthcoming in The Madison Review, Mississippi Review, Arkansas Review, Atlanta Review, Bayou Magazine, and The Journal, among others. She has received support from Community of Writers and the Sancho Panza Summer Workshops. She is currently an MFA candidate at the University of Florida, where she teaches creative writing and serves as an editorial assistant for Subtropics. Her website is chloecookwrites.com.