Poem: House Plant in a Tent City

Published on October 15, 2025 at 2:39 PM

Hoo boy

that tidal penury

has really stopped all semblance

of ebbing.

 

The curled wave eats 

the cliff face

pulling soil out at the base

and into unquenching salts.

 

Have you heard of hunger?

The sea has.

The rich too.

They've eaten their legs and middles

for the luxury of keeping their mouths.

 

Crabs, in a dearth of shells,

make homes in plastic forms.

Us too, us too...

 

Would whoever invests in the last house

please remember

to water the plants?