by A.Conover, USA
The water is rising when I wake, and at first, I forget. It is always this way yet I am able to see through the greed that slightly grows each day while simultaneously seeming smaller. The water is rising. I get up on the bed still wearing the blood that I wore yesterday, a burden I bear from those who feast on the flesh of sentient beings as if it doesn’t matter anymore, as if the world is too far gone for their small sacrifices to matter. The water is rising. Up and up I climb to avoid the mess they made and make and will keep making no matter how many times I plead and yell and cry and drown. The water is rising. I add my share of salt to the pool that nobody seems to notice anymore. Instead of attempting to add less water or get others to add less, they are taking swimming lessons. The water is rising. The caps are melting and the earth is dying and all you do is continue the same habits as if you are above the lives of everyone and everything. Though you ignore it, I will still tell you: the water is rising.
(inspired by Lyn Hejinian’s “[The water was rising…]”)
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