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Hayleigh Mar 2019
These people, these lives, these houses, these homes, these hills, these trees, these animals, these rivers, these seas.
We are not building an empire, we are destroying one, and every living, breathing thing in it.
We are walking catastrophes, entire tsunamis tripping off our tongues, rivers rolling between our lips. Streams of change, ebbing through microplastic in our veins with nets around our necks.
Let us be the change we want to see in the world, let us plant trees, climb to the top of them and scream from the top of our lungs for every single thing we are grateful for, let this planet be at the very top of that list.
As long as we inhale and exhale every moment; every memory, every molecule on this earth, let us not forget, we belong to it, and not the other way round.
There is so much yet we can do, so many lives we can transform, entire continents we can claim and cure.
Let us find peace before we are torn to pieces by our very own hands.
Mike Adam May 2022
Too buoyant-

Syllables that

Once sank to
Ocean bed

And dissolved
Spreading nutrients

Now

They float
And mass

As microplastic
Waste lakes

Blocking the light.

Consciouness that
Pervades

Become flat
As a screen-

Dead as moon
DogKeep Sep 2022
cradled in the pumpkin patch
only to drown in the the canal
along with all the discarded tat.

i would laugh if it wasn't for the aerosol in my chest
and microplastic in my spine.

dining on cardboard fish as to not upset
THE NATURAL HIERARCHY
of things
and so jeff can go to space in a *****.

such ****** performances to languish
UNDER!
the carvings in my countenance tell me
autum will deliver ORANGE RED.

— The End —