Before the Next Apocalypse

would those who used
to be weather
have a word for
the weight of fall
sky setting in may?

again i am inclined
to ask what i have
done.

my moon/scape
goat insecure
ly reflected in
a pool of my
making—

or did i just
inherit these waters
these corroding
shores

wherein my ark
learns to float,
is that the same
as swimming?

i mean,
is this enough?

my unsettled
settled self rises to
the sun’s rising
hotter & hotter &
i have never been at ease
with the way of tides.

(fickle fish.)

i want to sit in green woods
secure in my relation to sea
levels & go on breathing
out of water
all my bodies rising under pain
of blaze
a little longer

before my two fish call
new weather
to arms against our selfish limbs
our blooded olive branch.