Our ocean is too warm. Our forests burn
too often now, too widely, and the air
bears irritants, but most in power spurn
the obvious, the facts: that they impair
tomorrow with the corporate hunt for wealth,
as much as they denied tobacco’s curse,
or how asbestos stole from human health,
as glyphosate compounds to make us worse.

Manipulated by a stale romance,
policed by social media, we swell
with sugar tumors while a final chance
expires, as the sky and oceans spell
our doom. I sense disaster, not far off,
but maybe I’m contorted by this cough.