Climate Change Zoology
Dead elephants crumble like cubist mud.
Staghorn coral or antlers of a massive cull.
The last albatrosses rime like ancient mariners.
Tigers pace back and forth in cages of extinction.
Acoustic fossils croak, wetlands grow silent.
Mountain gorillas roar out our expiry
But we lack primal understanding.
Sea turtles bury eggs in books of quicksand.
Salmon suffocate in homeless waters.
Polar bears leap into the abyss like idiot men.
Whales breach from their blood with a groan.
Never have so many animals boarded
The ark of the sun with all their riches
Of honey and manna lost to the world.
Nature’s lease on capital is insolvent.
Our research points to terrifying conclusions,
Cryptids don’t exist, but we believe in them.
We spawn marine reptiles in our minds.
We descend like Andean wolves, into lower forests.
It might as well be that skunk-ape migrants
Of global warming indicate degrees in theology.
It might as well be that being is bizarre,
Monsters of the lector unsolved in the sermon.
It might as well be that Chupacabra
Are devil dogs stirring the furnace of souls.
Perhaps a pharmaceutical apocalypse
Creates the condition for a mutant menagerie.
All we can say beyond a reasonable doubt:
They are the varmint of the malcontent
Who have peopled else and are on the move.
How many are the green losses
How heavy are the losses
Ask the animals
And they will tell you
Ask the earth and it will teach you
Those sleeping in the earth
Who loved the earth
And were murdered protecting it
I wish for them the richest blackness
Of soul-seeding eternity
Starry nights of soil
For those murdered
Protecting the earth
Wherever the black sunbird flies
I wish for them the revenge
Of regeneration and restoration
May the vines of the Amazon
Entwine them all about the neck
May the heavens uproot
The worldly children
And save a garden for the rest
One gust bends the reeds, another rights them.
A pond levels the eye in the light of the mind.
Fed with honey and light, dusk is sounding,
Stones detach, trees branch into trees,
People in the park stand apart, part of every part;
Paths drift from the path; those lost remain so;
And it is beautiful to live in two worlds, twice two,
Feeling and saying, believing and denying,
Witnesses to simultaneous sunsets, to an earth
Concurrent to ourselves and each others’ other.
We found a young snake on the road.
We found a young snake on the road.
It was November but felt like spring.
The month had shed its skin.
What shall we do with a serpent
When stars are the tail of the sun?
What shall we do with the earth
When we are beings of a dream?
We didn’t know where to find its den.
It swam from my hand like something Zen.
It’s a gift from the earth to catch a dream.
A gift to the earth to return the seed.
The most noxious landfill is language.
Books are polluted; libraries, dump sites.
Due to toxic levels of pathetic fallacy
Bookstores recall infected books;
Greenpeace intervenes poetry readings;
Poets are fined for offshore word spills.
Why must a cloud be forever lonely?
Why must the sea be always cruel?
Books burn by their own hands.
Lexicon’s toxic waste contaminates
Our graves and poisons our shadows
From which we rise to stain the world.
What are they doing on my road,
Those hawk feathers?
What does it mean that I have no more masks?
How will I survive the loss of everything?
I see a warrior spirit
Wearing feathers of the sun.
I hear the war cry of change.
I hesitate above my shadow,
The earth is flying,
My totem grows stronger,
Wings lift me into air.
I’ll heal by this magic or not at all.
Thus Hurricane Katrina blotted out every living thing
But the fountains of the deep closed
And the people remembered Nola.
They remembered their flowers of desire,
Live oaks branching across dreams,
The natural magic of walking banana trees,
Dancing lizards and voodoo honey.
People remembered and one by one
The sweet devilwood of their mornings
Returned in the beak of a dove.
There’s no way to stay sober
Where streets have the names of Muses.
There’s no way to stay dry
In so green and destructive an Eden.