THE CORAL REEF IS A GRAVEYARD.

The Coral Reef Is A Graveyard

The coral reef is a graveyard,
swirling in saltwater puddle
the dwindling whirlpool,
a mockery of blue taffy candy,
and floating bottle caps

The rivers are painted yellow-brown,
a brush of sulfur dioxide
seething muddling, rotten mess,
that heaves from the chest of concrete 
swimming with vacuum cleaners 
and plastic bags.

The lakes are dark as they sweat brow,
my home,
a floating patch of worry,
the bow of my sail is crusted 
through garage chutes,
and the white-bellied bodies of carp

The cardboard signs painted,
Water Is Life 
wash upon shore in the night
blue chalk bleeding,
across the open-mouth bays of sailors

She turns on the switch of her porch door,
and meets a thick hum of absent 
electricity in its place,
an empty bucket, stained with water lines

In my brittle talc canoe, 
grappling buckskin mittens to the side
an oil slick hand, dark and droopy 
reaches overboard from whitecaps, 
rocking off me the course of starlight 

The maples bustle from their perch,
a grassfield, burnt of radiation
offer support slim to none,
of peach fuzz leaves, barely there

Fresh streams turn into sludge
of miles thick pipeline exchange,
resting water, high above the line,
surfaces of gentrification 
and stolen lands 

In my olive hands, 
a cloudy mirth bringing up soil,
of barely there oceans 
and forgotten spirits
of cresting moons that whisper to me,
The heart of the people belongs to 
the heart of the land.

-Lauren Goulette