One Last Call, Before You End It

Are we taking into account what nature wants?

Or is this some grand plan

where nature tolerates us for as long as it can?

One last plea of neglect. That’s the story.

The sad excuse for our irresponsibility:

guilt’s evasion deciding which choice

to attach our humility, we say

we’re sorry.

One last plea. That’s our story,

we’re sticking to it. Even apologies

can be a last line of defence: A commitment

to irresponsibility’s psychosis, we say

I’m sorry.

But the Earth’s sea is becoming carnivorous,

no building will stand in the way

its appetite, out of hand, out of mind,

imagine Big Ben or the Eiffel Tower

stuck — a toothpick — in the jaws of sea levels rising

as high as temperatures and temperaments

because our responsibility

required too much drastic change, just too much of us.

Are we taking into account what nature wants?

I’m asking for the Earth’s wellbeing, for ours,

before our very own insidious inability

forces its hand further

making it the architect of our coup de grâce.

We’re all so sorry

when an apology’s deadline

was yesterday, and

its line of defence: a wall:

comes crashing down like a tsunami,

for this abusive

relationship, of apologizing

without action, and all the advice

in the world.