you just made eden disappear
it's not about eve, apples,snakes
or any other flesh colored fictions
applied to cover wounds
we made on exit.
forgive me, i knew not what we did.
so we walked on
a boardwalk over the bay
sharing a smoke and she
drops it. it's about 3 feet to
the ground, we can see smoke
fire was threatening
my face grundling the desk
full of old bills and unmailed thank you notes.
she jumped down and got
it still burning.
red tide is apoptostic
the fish kills
are noxious an open
grave of bodies on the beach.
that nothing eats
she scraped her shoes
off on the wooden planks
thank god there wasn't an aligator she said
between blooms it lives
in flat tide pools
a quarter inch thick that dry to muck
when the fourth month of overbearing in laws
and overpriced family cruises
cause it to burst forth
with bright reds
stirred into the sea's greens
and the grouper can't breathe in
this brown cocktail under relentless sun
a drowning asthmatic
jumps from the ocean's belly, hoping
when we got back
to the cars i looked towards the east
where she was going. obsidian sky, a space
oddessy, a water spout. a rainbow red
and pink dominant the tide
when the organism
as a bloom becomes too large
the carbon dioxide
they live upon dwindles,they die
releasing neurotoxins. that's
when the biggest kill comes. extinction burst.
my way was pretty clear. sun settling in
for the night, pinking the west. which way
do you want to go i ask her
pointing at the two skies.