the country splintering

Memorable Stuff I Read This Week

It is day infinity
of everyone wanting me dead. People are having fun
bringing lemon squares and automatic artillery to the anti-trans community meetings.

— Jackie Sabbagh / “Having a Great Time Being Transgendered in America Lately”


Hurricane Beryl claimed at least 22 lives in the Houston area. Recent additions to the list include 11 people who died from hyperthermia, or overheating, after sitting without power for days in homes pummeled by a feverish Texas summer. At the height of the outages, CenterPoint, Houston’s main power distributor, had over 2.26 million customers with no electricity . . . Beryl’s official death toll will likely continue to climb, but experts said the final number is expected to have major gaps, especially among those found dead in powerless buildings with triple-digit temperatures.

— Rebekah F. Ward / “Hurricane Beryl killed at least 22 people in the Houston area. More than half were heat-related deaths.” / Houston Chronicle


I’m not certain which is the correct version, but what stays with me
        is the leaving, the cry, the country splintering.

— Chen Chen / “First light”


Monday was the hottest day ever measured by humans, beating a record set the day before, as countries across the globe continue to feel the heat, according to the European climate change service . . . Climate scientists say the world is now as warm as it was 125,000 years ago because of human-caused climate change. While scientists can’t be certain that Monday was the hottest day throughout that period, average temperatures haven’t been this high since long before humans developed agriculture.

— CBS News / “Monday was hottest day ever measured by humans, beating Sunday, European science service says: ‘Uncharted territory’”


I used to think my body craved 
annihilation. An inevitability, 
like the slow asphyxiation 
of the earth.

— Ally Ang / “Masculinity Ode”


I’ve not attended a protest or done a goddam thing for anyone save a distracted vote or a self-serving donation.

I am a fucked-up citizen of a fucked-up country.

— Eugene Lim / “What We Have Learned, What We Will Forget, What We Will Not Be Able to Forget” / New Yorker


If you love where you’re from
god help you stay there.
Here in the heat

is where I need to be.
This world is frightening;
I’m trying to enjoy it.

— Jessica Abughattas / “Eureka!”

What I’m Listening To:

You were my oxygen
The thing that made me think I could escape
This is a “Thank You” song for Les and Ray

— Le Tigre / “Les and Ray”

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

thick with avarice

sun city sinking (tanka+)

sun city sinking
into the ocean—built on
tequesta middens—
vain and thick with avarice
so high on its own supply

(glug … glug … glug… glug…)

What I’m Reading:

In 20 or 30 years, someone is going to find a solution for this. Besides, by that time, I’ll be dead, so what does it matter?

— Real estate developer, Jorge Perez to author Jeff Goodell / The Water Will Come: Rising Seas, Sinking Cities, and the Remaking of the Civilized World

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

in this heat

those of us

those of us who fled our southern hometowns
because of disingenuousness
because of intolerance
because of hyper-conservatism
because of the heat and the hate
because of hypercapitalism
because of retrograde and regressive tendencies

(we know all of the above are not endemic to the south… BUT)

we’ve been replaced with alien and invasive species

green iguanas, pythons, peter’s rock agama, nile monitors, tegus, land snails, u get the drift…

only the cold blooded and unempathic could survive in this heat

cultists to the orange strident
they drape themselves in red white and blue bunting and erect 10 foot crosses in their front yards

in weather fit only for birds and iguanas
in an atmosphere only tardigrades could tolerate

all of this beauty in a state that dangles like an impotent penis—a flaccid handgun—at the southeast corner of this blundered and plundered cracking republic

What I’m Reading:

To those inclined toward kindness, I say
Come out of your houses drumming. All others,  
beware: I have discarded my smile but not my teeth.

— Rita Dove / “Incantation of the First Order”

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

mine. Dark. Wasteland.

Your Ruff Collar, My Millstone (redux)

We live under the heat dome.

I see you across the barren parklet.
You are eating bits of soft pink flesh.

My hair wilts.
Your curls frizz.

I lick the hot sauce off my fingers.
You yell that you are an arriviste.

I scream that I was once part of the noblesse oblige and waved banderitas.

You warble an Edith Piaf song.
I huff gas out of a brown paper bag.

You sing two registers too low.
My viscera gurgles. I pee my pants where I stand — mud puddles form around my feet.

Tomorrow you will sign away your inalienable rights for a used 78 rpm record of “Thee Infanticide Blues.”
I will strum The Hits of the Borscht Belt Songbook tonight on my ukulele.

The gloaming hour.

I leave a minute after you do.

You to your elevator shaft.
Me to my abandoned mine.

Dark. Wasteland.

We may meet again next year.

What I’m Reading:

When I go back
to my unhappiness, I’m sure
to cook it a meal. My sin?

I care about myself
without being kind to myself.

— Jessica Abughattas / “Eureka!”

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

perdition and desolation

No Easy Way Down

Someone said to her: “Are your avocados in the oven?”

To which she said: “Excuse me. Do I know you?”

“You are very angry, aren’t you?”

“Again, do I know you, sir?”

He moved about her in a drunken semi-circle and professed: “I am a visionary, missy. I see things you can’t imagine. Hexagons. Bike routes to heaven. Heathen paths to perdition and desolation.” He adjusted the rope he wore as a belt and riled himself up for a jeremiad, but she turned and walked away.

Clarity would wait another day. Another day in the southern city. Clear as a cross-oceanic Saharan dust storm—which are becoming regular fixtures of this anthropogenic age.

What I’m Reading:

On the Brighton Beach boardwalk men sit in the rain shelters smelling of piss, shouting drunk genius into the afternoon sun.

— Gala Mukomolova / “On the Brighton Beach Boardwalk”

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

in this (my) neighborhood pt. 75

What I’m Reading:

Our dried voices, when 
We whisper together 
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass 

— T.S. Eliot / “The Hollow Men”

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

just ain’t content

ire

just ain’t content
with anything at the moment—
what more to say?

What I’m Reading:

We are now in an era of loss and damages.

— Saleemul Huq / “Life at 1.1 C “ / The Climate Book: The Facts and the Solutions

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

power and money

Memorable Stuff I Read This Week

I’m not funding a war 
if I pretend the money 
in my taxes are only going 
toward the roads that 
are actively collapsing. 

— aeon ginsberg / “anyways im radicalized now”


Some locations have seen the heat index, or how it feels when factoring in the humidity, reach 140 to 150 degrees Fahrenheit (60 to 65 Celsius), fueled by an intense heat dome, the warmest water temperatures in the world and the influence of human-caused climate change.

— Dan Stillman / “The Persian Gulf is enduring life-threatening heat indexes above 140 degrees / The Washington Post


We’re in an overwhelming heat wave, 
we’re in the coldest summer of the rest of our lives. 
They don’t make the tools we need 
            to become autonomous anymore 
            because they can ship us 
            our weight in debts instead. 

— aeon ginsberg / “anyways im radicalized now”


Thirty years ago, when the dangers of climate change were beginning to be understood but had not yet arrived in force, the creeping catastrophe facing Miami might have been averted. But as atmospheric concentrations of carbon reach levels not seen in 3 million years, politicians promise resilience while ignoring emissions; developers race to build a bounty of luxury condos, never mind the swiftly rising sea. Florida is entering a subtropical state of unreality in which these decisions don’t add up.

— Mario Alejandro Ariza / “Miami is Entering a State of Unreality” / The Atlantic


Think about what you owe  
and how much it weighs,  
think about what you give away  
            and where it goes, think about  
            how much choice you really have, 
if you have choice at all. 

— aeon ginsberg / “anyways im radicalized now”


“Workers are compelled to be in the heat. They have to work or they lose their livelihood. This speaks to a wider dynamic: power and money determine your vulnerability to climate change.”

— Samira Shackle / “The story of a heat death: David went to work in his new job on a French building site. By the end of the day he was dead” / The Guardian


I’m not funding a war, 
            I’m in one. 

— aeon ginsberg / “anyways im radicalized now”

What I’m Listening To:

All time
Flies like
One foot
In front

— Loma / “Please, Come In”

Posted in Writing | Leave a comment

we sailor skid

Deathbed Compact (redux)

We vowed a deathbed
compact. We saga
prototypes, classicists,
& evergreens. We ordinance
in & out of time. We be farcical
masons. We ebb & floe
like Greenland ice sheets
under successive heat
domes. We sailor-skid
spanner ewers. We peso
sunsets. We illumine penny
bardos.

What I’m Reading:

Most species alive today have persisted through multiple ice ages; clearly they were able to survive colder global temperatures. Whether they can handle warmer ones, though, is unclear.

— Elizabeth Kolbert / “Civilization and Extinction” / The Climate Book: The Facts and the Solutions

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

milliseconds of fat

yield

time and space yield to no one
tho anthropogenic change has slowed
the spin of the earth
milliseconds of fat
water around the equator
you and your grandchildren’s grandchildren
may not note it but the meta—
verses will: a financial irregularity
a capitalization a millisecond too late
mega millions missing or lost

and so, no matter how far away
i move from my hometown
the places stay the same
but imperceptibly changed
in a tangential but indelible way

way too often i return
nothing is ever really the same
the more i come back the more
i change

the song remains the same

What I’m Reading:

As polar ice melts, water moves from the poles toward the equator — making our Earth bulkier and rotate slower… For billions of years, Earth’s movements — how it spins and at what speed — have been primarily determined by forces beyond human influence, such as the pull of the moon and processes at our core and mantle. Now, the melting of Earth’s ice sheets, accelerated by human-driven warming, is influencing those motions.

— Kasha Patel / “Why melting ice sheets are making our days longer” / The Washington Post

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment