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

not surprised.

 

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,

Trees

 

Some people are going about their every

day

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

Humanity.

They are not attached to their individual

lives; they are interested in playing their

role

They are tired that we do not feel them

Anymore

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

Existence

 

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

luxury

 

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

Blip

In time.

 

The earth is not sure if humans are worth

the effort

 

She is sending warning signs. She is

having indigestion

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

Down.

 

What’s it like, to pretend to be something we

Are

Not

 

Put on your

Pearls

 

Make more plastic. That is what we Need,

in this time of isolation. More plastic

things.

 

The humans are concerned about a virus,

But they are a virus

And the planet has already been

vaccinated

 

 

 

If you liked this piece, you might also enjoy:

maybe one day I will tell my children

– the crows, unconcerned, will be happy to eat our bodies when they fall

you were never a virgin and nothing was ever taken from you

pleasure in dissolving (being in Winter)

Nothing, herself

how to live when the world is dying

 

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