Tonight's Poet Corner: Awkward Ocean

Awkward Ocean
by Belinda Roddie

We dwell by an awkward ocean. We breathe
deep and let the heat burn our nostrils. We sip
salt around the rims of coral reefs and let the
sun sear our retinas until there's nothing but
carbon dioxide radiating in our lungs.

We carry burdens, all of us - but the sea
cannot wash away each scrap
fallen from the dinner table. The fish that
eat the crumbs have already been gutted. The
waves splash bubble bath sprinkles as the
winter becomes second summer. The scalped
sunset with a pink, exposed crown.

I cannot say I can spare it -
my gift to you is distraction
so you can ignore the operation I botched
on Mother Nature's cancerous bosom. The tumors
metastasize, and we learn to build
houses on her lumps instead of planting the cure
within her swollen mammary glands. My

gift to you is senselessness, so when your
double motor revs behind glowing screens,
you'll strip naked and feel like melting in the
sterile glow of the concave shell that was once
flora and fauna - now smolder and sauna, the
steam billowing from chimneys. The fat
dripping from your left flank. The extra
gristle you chew from your rations
as you drink your daily glass of water and
watch the world die a little more of thirst.