Poetry Month Part 4: Burying Mom Alive

tundra

I have a sort of innate disdain for trendy “environmentalism:” the million little things we tell the powerless they have to do to save the world rather than really examine the systems in place keeping us on the road to environmental disaster. That said a little reflection on what we do, how we do it, and how we can contribute to both the solution and the problem would be nice. Also, not a Gaea hypotheses type, but damn it makes for a nice title.

Burying Mom Alive

One more grain
what does it matter
ounce
by pitiful
ounce
a little more weight in the cart
and the wheels creak

Avail yourself
one more time
let someone else
go without
today
you will cut back
tomorrow
or next week
or a year from now

Habits die hard
and we kill ourselves
with them
suffocating on
our appetites
drowning in
familiarity
and luxury

Only once
it is over
our heads
might we think about it
a last desperate glance
fed by a last desperate breath
choked off
by one more grain

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