I cannot eat
When I am already full
When the smoke drips down the trees
And I am overflowing with their tears
My heart has dissipated
I ask the trees if they are crying
For their brothers and sisters,
Down the west coast
As usual, they say no
The trees are unfazed, by orange and
grays. They know this, already. They are
They will sit with my grief, but it isn’t
theirs, after all. It’s just mine.
We have given birth control to fire. Shut
her down, tried to regulate her, as if we
knew what she needed without asking.
When fire cannot complete her cycles on
her own terms, she buries within herself
And takes every opportunity to
overflow with rage
When temperatures increase
Everything must burn, extra
The world is not falling apart, says the
tree, echoing in my head.
She is cleaning house
And you’ve left it messy
I feel the smoke
My eyes, my throat. Tiny remnants
Of plastic, people, feathers,
Some people are going about their every
Some people don’t know what death looks like
The tree is not that interested in being saved.
I tune into all the trees, gripping hands
beneath my feet
This is your story, they say
Live it out
They want to be in communion. They want
to hold my hair as I throw up
They are not attached to their individual
lives; they are interested in playing their
They are tired that we do not feel them
But not surprised
They want to know where I’ve been
Doing person things, I say
Trying to pretend that I cannot feel your
calls throughout my day to day
I like to stay on the ship while it goes
down, you know?
That’s my role. To play bridge
Between trees and humans
What is a world without air to breathe
Hope is for those who can breathe.
Let me breathe death
into my bones
They will scream as a forest goes down, in
flames. Some will be left standing.
Some will act alive, will bloom as if
everything was beautiful
Because they do not reserve beauty for
The trees are willing to burn.
They are tuned deeper, into the planet,
itself. The planet is very familiar with
cycles, and we are only the tiniest
The earth is not sure if humans are worth
She is sending warning signs. She is
Just mild. It was fun, to dress up, build
cities, create things from things.
I knew a boy who jumped off a building
because he thought he could fly
He could not. But maybe, he thought he
could for a moment, on his way
What’s it like, to pretend to be something we
Put on your
Make more plastic. That is what we Need,
in this time of isolation. More plastic
The humans are concerned about a virus,
But they are a virus
And the planet has already been
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