This is a poem.
It's about that summer when there was such a heat
wave in the Pacific Northwest that the water got really,
really warm and inhospitable to life.
It's called "Die Off off Vancouver."
"The heat wave killed,
Baked the mussels
in the shallow Pacific tides.
Peace, mussel, metaphors, I guess
Offering up ironic wince, real grief.
Our longings in conflict with each other leave a stink.
Withered sea star
With your broken purple arms or points.
No one intended this.
And mostly, no one sees what even happened.
Our imaginations hardly bother.
You could be a cookie lying there,
Photographed not on a beach
But in a pastry case
Delicacy.
Intimacy.
Apostasy.
MC.
Lega.
Pyra.
Falla.
Immedia."