by Tricia Knoll
Nope. Don't have one. No breaks,
no plans, no backpedals, no forward go way,
scientists seeing climates
gone crazy, sideways, edgeways,
overblown, flooded, fired in heaps
of forest ash, a steady
climb up a particular way.
They testify, witness heads
nod to the words
coal in China, coal in freight
up the Columbia River,
chug a bunch, chug a bunch
coal to China, jokered
coals to Newcastle,
ashes to ashes. Dust to
dust muting the bell clap.
Saturday car ads big deal
35 miles per gallon can’t get
me to Newcastle with clean
air, can’t get me nowhere
I want to go in an orderly
way.
Tricia Knoll is a Portland, Oregon poet.
