The Microplastics in Me are the Microplastics in You
Each object in reach is dripping
with magic/poison, and even
cyber pollution would be breathtaking
if I could feel the things I think.
A man stalked me through the forest yesterday.
There were three mass shootings yesterday.
Imagine anything else (it’s okay if we all do it).
There could be a missile in the air right now
on the planet we live on, and that doesn’t even
get our blood pumping.
The evening chorus outside the window
is in full concert, but I haven’t memorized
any birdsong — good God, I don’t
even know the names of the trees.
Erin Saxon’s fiction and poetry have appeared in River Styx, Potomac Review, and elsewhere, and she has contributed book reviews to The Kansas City Star. She's based in Boston and holds an MFA from the University of Missouri-Kansas City.