1. Won’t Stop
What an unusual winter, to last till fall,
such a bad water this year, so full of elements
and hardly any specials.
I imagine the temperature had a hand in it,
this new kind of hot we’re having, like the clouds
pressed off on all the buttons
and seeped themselves away asocially.
Early retirement in dapplement—all the branches
signed off. Leaves left; they fell well before fall.
The changing of the seasons went viral
and now we have Sunter, Sprummer, Wing, and Wall.
2. Can’t Stop Too Hot
One foot in flip-flop, the other snow boot.
One hatchling learns to conserve energy (someone has to)
detaching its wings, hitching a ride
with a stressed-out vole. Flying’s not fuel-
efficient. A snake sheds its skin and crawls
into the shell with a turtle. They make room.
For my part, I imagine how a coyote re-eats its
plastic waste. This imagining requires no action,
which also, awfully, it’s true, saves energy.
Recycling requires a cycle and we melted
the axle, affixed the spindle. We stay still.
Hoping to grow some chlorophyll.
Soon everywhere will be too far to travel.
Too hot to go outside but in—in skin—
no place to breathe easy, either.
