M. Hank

Her hands are cupped around

A rose,

Perfectly red petals

Curling to the center,

Where she has stored her heart;

When I was younger I used to ask my mom what her favorite color was and she said she didn’t have one.

This confused me,

How could one go through life without a favorite color?

Listen to my tale of woe

from the olden days

Sir Jack, he was a nobleman

who worked in all the trades.

The Queens, they all adored him

for he never missed croquet

the Kings called him for gin and rum

There's a climate rally 

okay let's go 

to that 

I'll make a sign 

But now we're making the sign 

with the markers

if i don’t take something from you 

ill take the other.

i’ll wash your oceans down to my essence

and eat the dirt that gives you life

the schools of fish shall go to my offspring 

The ice is bleeding,  

oceans cough up plastic in its lungs,  

skies choke on smoke  

while we scroll, sip, and shrug.