is really melting—
two degrees
Celsius by the
end of the
century.
two degrees
Celsius by the
end of the
century.
You don't
understand, I can't
die. No not
me. No not yet.
me. No not yet.
*
Proximities change.
Days wane.
Gradual faces and
street traffic waxing—
never the same
sorts of
patterns
again. And still—almost all
kids'll laugh
at
pancakes
like Mickey Mouse.
pancakes
like Mickey Mouse.