Last Rounds
raise the water, this spruce falls
raise the water, speed the swirls
lift the wind that cooled to other climes
salt intensifies, intoxicates—remember
how permafrost retreat took shallow-rooted
trees and leaned survivors over
like evergreens at the edge of the husk still called St. Helens
cries the girl wearing ash in a locket
—she’s less drunk than you know
we prop her up the bathroom stairs
she tells us how she gave up diving
after seeing too many bones without their symbionts
raise the water
temperature, whiten coral
someone has to burn
refer to trees to still standing as the scorch zone
whiskey’s more expensive, this hot winter
and that will almost keep us sober
I miss how we used to cry about each other’s beauty in the restrooms
I miss iridescent flies
—am I speaking, or the girl?
raise the water
toast the future
it’s all we can afford
