She Dollops the Not-Knows (redux)

Her bedfellow has no gnu,
She thinks her brown bomb
Has no goad.

If she could dartboard
Naked,
Under panegyric triangles
And see her impersonators roasting in the sun
She would know.

But there are no panegyric triangles
On the string,
And dispensary waves call no backwater impersonators.

What I’m Reading:

“We’ve screwed things up badly enough that even if we do everything right from here on out, we’re still looking at a future of staccato climate disasters.”

— Naomi Klein / “‘It’s inequality that kills’: Naomi Klein on the future of climate justice” / The Guardian