Ordinary Omens

Thousands of seagulls descended
yesterday on one street corner.
The air was thick with wings,
No-one thought it strange.

We are a cracked river bed
just before it dries out,
water still barely flowing,
leaving rock and rust deposits
snaking down bare hillside.

Lead and mercury storm clouds
appear overhead in seconds.
We dodge and weave between
rains of first generation iPods,
avoid fax machine strikes.

Streams run green with lithium.
We breathe in chlorine and
we are grateful for it.

While we still can, let us lie
in our broken glass gardens and
sing to each other; songs of jetpacks,
cties that float on the ocean
and escalators to the moon.


All the poems I wrote for last year’s Napowrimo are available as a free ebook. Download it here.