Baptinista (1)

No glass rain will mark the hour of our passing

unknowable cartography of shores changed by rising

oceans-

all the whales have beached themselves in protest.

Our children play with small plastic versions of orcas and dinosaurs.

mother what killed the dinosaurs?

An asteroid, my child, the earth turned hotter

than the sun and within

three hours they were gone.

mother what killed all the creatures in the sea?

O, we did, my child.

We did. We choked

the oceans and robbed and mined

and killed and slaughtered and left behind

a trail of picture book

animals. You will dream at night

of being on a boat- in the bright

smug of day a fluke punctures

the surface, a primordial

creature breaches and falls back into the sea.

Lick the salt tears from your lip, child- that is what the ocean

tastes of.