My entire family crowds
around the tall beige tower
of my grandma’s Windows PC.
We’re playing Wheel of Fortune–
Vanna’s spinning letters
in a purple, sequined dress.
Not that I remember the color,
just the whir of crystals
flashing in a corner, her mouth
moving charmingly out of sync
with the words that she is saying.
Only one of us can man the keys–
the others scream,
their answers winging through the space
like frantic hummingbirds.
They land on my fingers,
pecking at my knuckles–
speed baby, speeeeeed.
Grandpa’s been gone a year,
so the grandfather clock
only he could fix
stands broken in the hall.
We don’t know what time it is,
so we play until we’ve eked
every last ray
of this late spring sun.
A day hasn’t moved
this fast in months.
When we’re done,
we power the mammoth off–
she screeches into blackness.
Meme makes Crystal Light.
We down the stuff in batches.
Cody Gohl is a Brooklyn-based poet exploring queerness, family, intimacy, and the odd, radiant moments that shape a life. His work appears or is forthcoming in Yin Literary, Eunoia Review, Blood + Honey, and Cosmic Daffodil Journal. He is currently completing his debut poetry collection, January 2034.
