The Earth is an old dog’s tennis ball, chewed

up and used up with joy,

which is why I don’t care for saving

the world. When I’m done I’ll lob

it out for the next kids to gnaw

as they’re teething,

because the Earth craves

our lives’ intimate caress, willing

to wear our footprints as laugh lines. Love leaves

marks, love rarely tames

the force of her nature, and nature’s force is wild

at our doors. She gulps at our wells and finishes

us all, while ever offering

her breast to my mouth. So I shamelessly spread

open her chasms and bring her to gasp,

for I live atop her, and the untouched

are already forgotten.


2 thoughts on “Environmentality

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