Been wondering how to help a certain fog slowly boiling in a pot of water.
When I look at the fog, it’s eyes are glazed and far off, and it appears its consciousness is not at home.
I’m the fog, along with 7.8 billion other fogs.
We work, (some of us), we starve, (again, some of us), some of us depriving other fogs of their civil rights, even their lives.
If anyone is being observant, watching trends, and places of cold and ice turns green and warm with filthy rising oceans, likely see whats coming.
However, I’m afraid I’m inadequate to the task of being a good poet or the canary in the mines.
My message?:
None of this shit is sustainable and the angle of our collapse has gone perpendicular.
But then, what else I’m going to do?
Continue writing, in the hope that I can wake up some frogs….
Liferaft in the Abyss 