Dylan Ecker
The Everglades
The cadaver plays peek-a-boo with a more beautiful version of himself. It’s okay, they’re both smiling. The seagulls are there. Doing dirty seagull things. Tummies full of rechargeable batteries. The seagulls are there, and the cadaver is having none of it. He just wants to paint his toenails. Yellow: the most memorable piece of debris. He reaches for a cup of shaved ice. Feet dug into wet sand. His family was kind to him. They let him run the business after the hurricane. New flavors every month, that was the promise. Kiwi went viral—how could you, is this even, what the actual—and after that he took up competitive surfing. He gave up competitive surfing. More hopeful swallowing that drag-down and stay-there of a rip. More authentic hearing that cool boom of an entire ocean hauling what’s left behind. Isn’t it silly? The pinned flesh. The organic subassembly. He still likes maraschino cherry best. The cadaver opens his eyes. Another seagull flies in. Another more beautiful version of himself slips out, takes an Uber to the Everglades, feels lonely, runs around.
Dylan Ecker is an amateur geologist from Cleveland, Ohio. The only song he listens to is “Crawled Out of the Sea (Interlude)” by Laura Marling. There are poems of his in and around places like Hobart, Indiana Review, New Ohio Review, Outlook Springs, HAD, and elsewhere. Visit him at dylanecker.com.