I was a believer and it’s wildfire season
Prove yourself to your homelands but dont move back
My corporation goes to trial and settles: intermittent recycling programs
My algorithm suggests buying crescent moon jewelry
Dear all: but all too late. Flooding fires, fiery floods, the flight
I unoriginate away in the ozone
tearing privilege of heritage jetting
Responsibility shoved into words: this poem
The confusion of profit, of prophets
Iconoclasm: surgical strike of the starbucks straws
Common bloodletting amongst the dunes (Allahuakbar)
Prayers and just that; I look away into poetry