By Julie Jacques
Who will be the Noah of my generation?
The flood is inevitable, and when it approaches -
The pipeline will burst under pressure,
The tar sands will have a Viking funeral,
And pretty boy politicians will apologize.
They promise: Everything is A-OK.
We are fighting to build a dam strong enough
to ward off the waves by which
Our demise will come.
Our leaders do not fight with us,
They are only taping over holes
In the foundation of the Ark
And I am using my hands to bail
A sinking ship
Because their tape is not waterproof.
“I brought my own bags,”
I tell the cashier.
We both know it doesn’t matter
when 46% of the Great Pacific Garbage Patch
is fishing nets.
The abandoned netting does not belong to honest, humble fishermen:
They are minorities dominated
by leviathan corporations,
Rulers of the three domains.
Their litter introduces holes to the fabric of the ocean,
allowing solutions to slip through and
rendering them useless.
David trounced the giant with a sling,
but we are not sharpshooters,
and our weapons are intangible.
Goliath is not only stronger than us but also
Richer. Greedier. And he will rip more holes
in everlasting nets,
if they are not mended.