I will get up and lounge now, lounge on the blue settee, not scrape refritos off the stove, using a razor blade. The bee hotel from Amazon swings from the willow tree while I serenely biodegrade. I’ve earned my peace and quiet after seventy years or so of watching my carbon footprint. (How terrible a thing the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, and all the trash below: a scandalous lack of recycling.) I will get up and lounge now; lounging’s my métier. And if a bill collector should come pounding on the door, I won’t even hear him, for I’ll be worlds away: Tuned to Netflix, watching mumblecore.
I remember you making a comment about the visible and invisible in poetry. Among the many things I think you do well, is how you sharpen, through poetry, the attention of a psyche like a special camera. I really enjoy this about your poetry.
Why do I want to see more of the house in the photo? Why do I want to watch “Drinking Buddies” again? Why am I as troubled by the great Pacific garbage patch as I am by the fast fashion waste piles* in Africa? These questions arise from your unique vision and this distinctive poem. Thank you!
* https://www.theguardian.com/global-development/2023/jun/05/yvette-yaa-konadu-tetteh-how-ghana-became-fast-fashions-dumping-ground