To burn
Plastic washes against my feet,
frightening me with such defeat.
It also lies neatly piled along the beach
collected by migrant workers baking in the heat.
The piles off to the incinerator to burn.
Acrid oil invades my nose
and a golden rainbow frames my toes.
The ancient creatures that long decayed
now coats our beaches for free trade.
The fuel off to the engines to burn.
Ships as far as the eye can see.
Belching acid and soot and CO2.
Carrying the whims of the hungry masses.
Hungry for progress and likes and greenhouse gases.
The cargo off to the masses to burn.
"How dare you make us use clean fuels"
the shipping company proudly duels.
"We already filter out the sulfuric acid
and pump it into the waters beneath us."
The acid off to the ocean to burn.
Flares of methane shoot into the sky.
On an artificial island producing artificial highs.
When the island is swallowed up in rising waters,
economics will be no longer be important.
The gas off to the flares to burn.
Streams of light catch the clouds,
lifting my head above the shroud.
To weep to mourn and hear the plight
will give us strength to face the fight.
The people off to the streets to burn.
