Breathing and Peace
To have a breath of fresh air is laughableTo breathe and have it turn into asthma,turn into COPD then turn into lung canceris reality for meThere is no peace of self, family nor community, if there is no fresh airThe fresh air where I breathe it in and my whole body say ahhFresh air where…
I am tired of trying to be an environmentally friendly student, so here is a love letter
of glass & plastic skin, fitted with rusty gears. In Ann Arbor, the fledglings have vanished from the oaks. In this parking lot, I begin uncovering our snow slushed promises. How your squeals slam against hot concrete, Muna beats shooting in my eardrums. You ask for descriptions of shimmery streams or dawn lit forests, but…
An Infinite Loop
Like a lasso, the end of the world arriveswith the showmanship of a noose. The earth, reversed. Hot, endlessocean, then: land, coagulating like a scab. There will be nothingto remember us. Not the dunes like an unturned hourglass. Not the lakesblooming like a womb. Not the shores receding like a hairline. Not the glaciers,sweating to…
Ecology of Migration on Detroit River
Midnight passage over water. Blushing strawberry moon.A litany of stars reflecting the deep blue story curving into my Black body.I hope to see my mother on the other side. Here is a coffin to mold into a boatto lay inside. So many of us chose freedom. Chose the bottom of the sea. The country thatgives…
AQI 200
air quality index 200 and the blessings over wine, spice, and candles are followed by grief ritual dedicated to climate. i, like emergency room nurses detached from loss, felt little registering this new notch cut from the great global tree. only in september did it hit me, my anxiety building until grief became a relief…
Poem: the pulled card is a toppling tower
views of the new condo development are revealed branch by falling branch with plastic bags caught like futile parachutes
Poem: Disappointed in Joe
Too beautiful of a morning to once again realize I can’t always trust humans to have humanity.
Poem: Branches of the Willow
Resilience — passed down through generations, the gentleness of swaying.
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