(Poem) Homo Sapiens by Janine Canan

Reeve Woolpert carries an oil-covered pelican he rescued near Refugio State Beach on Wednesday. Photo credit: David Yamamoto / Special to The Star  https://www.facebook.com/vcstar/photos/a.108996706343.98585.76276576343/10152887587251344/?type=1&theater
Reeve Woolpert carries an oil-covered pelican he rescued near Refugio State Beach on Wednesday. Photo credit: David Yamamoto / Special to The Star
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Whatever I said that was bitter and burning

was not bitter or burning enough to describe

what we have been put through—

Earth, our Mother, and her children.

 

No words can be invented by a sane human mind

for the horror of this holocaust.

And still they go on—Madmen

stripping plundering gang-raping our Mother.

 

In a moment, She will brush them all away—

tiny termites that plagued the shack.

When it crumbles, floods sweep everything

away and the Sun turns rot to dust—

 

and there is nothing left to eat,

no one to remember house or man—

when homo sapiens is dead from the poison

he cavalierly heaped on the Earth—

 

and beauty, sweetness, mothering, birth

no longer exist. Only starvation

on a desert under a ravaging Sun

whose goldeny veil he tore from her face.

 

When there is no life left to kill—

no people or birds or cattle or fish—

will he be done yet?

 

from CONSCIOUSNESS (Regent Press, Berkeley, 2015)

 

Read Meet Mago Contributor Janine Canan.