my mother turned 75 years-old yesterday
and that’s all i know,
about her
anymore
lilacs re-leaf, re-bloom
in October
hummingbird moths feed,
and simultaneously,
She’s un-be-coming a human be-ing
She’s destined to,
we’re destined to, too
no
need to
tell me, explain
what’s happening
as constant witness,
as constant, remote witness to slaughter,
as constant gardener,
as constant tender,
as constant daughter,
i see.
i recognize.
i know,
Continue reading “phenology II”if you’re seeing this, you’re alive,
though dying — no matter your age, health, relative safety, relative comfortability —
on this living, though suffering and actively dying, planet
Earthlings and Earth together in a protracted hospice
right now, in these brief years, these grief years,
we are the “ever-living ghosts of what once was”
a “was” that most all of us alive this morning have never known as lived experience — save for the untouched tribes — 10,000 Uncontacted Peoples — 10,000 unsystematized, “uncivilized”
and the Ocean, and the few, still-standing Ancient One Trees; the untouched Desert, and the Mountains — even the youngest of them — The Tetons and The Himalayas, know what it “was” to be alive.
we are mere ghosts, walking dead.
good afternoon:
i feel like i should have started my heirloom tomato and chiltepin seeds on New Year’s Eve, but i haven’t even ordered or sorted seeds yet;
that I should’ve picked up a bottle of mineral facial sunscreen and given myself a pedicure yesterday;
that the swimsuits overwhelming retail spaces are not for spring breakers and resort goers but for anyone headed to North Avenue Beach in Chicago or Silver Beach in Michigan today;
and that i wish i didn’t know that the Thwaites Glacier is hanging on by fewer and weaker pinning points;
do you respect or even revere military service? i know many of you certainly do/
Continue reading “an open letter on a 65°f primary election day in Michigan | day 145 of Israel’s acute genocide of the Palestinian People”i witnessed the last of the snow piles
hand-shoveled or machine-threwn
and the natural drifts too
and the mound in the hollow
of the hügelkultur crescent moon
slowly recede, in a mesmerizing, seemingly molassic, week’s long retreat
then finally and sadly, concede
to the undormant grasses and soft ground beneath
to the sunlit warmth
of these nouveau
great lakes winters
my god,
what global madness
this adored microcosm, my priceless homestead, reveals
and catechizes for me:
our violent, human heat
an unrelenting torrent of accelerant that would
vanquish the ancients
melt greenland’s sheets of ice,
calve antarctic glaciers, strand polar bears,
expose or drown granite, basalt, gneiss
all, in the time of
that old sugar maple’s life
the widespread muck,
usual to late March
now spoils the January, the December, February too
there are no more
seasons,
only drownt
or parched
what use
is axial tilt, solar distance
while these men
lock-up the thermostat and disarrange the elements
she counted propane canisters
for her two Mr. Heaters
put batteries in her camp lanterns — circa 2004,
set out votive and prayer candles, matches and lighters,
worked past midnight
to empty, wash, fill or refill glass wine bottles with water for drinking, teeth-brushing, cooking
that is the advantage of the white wine screw cap bottles
p.s. VOGA pinot grigio is unrivaled for this use
she’s saved them over the months for this sole purpose, those Italians sure know what they’re doin’
she rotated supply: filled buckets with the previously stored precious water,
placed them in the bathtubs for toilet flushing
and in Igloo jugs
for hand and face washing
& dishwashing
(and, hoe baths too)
this beautiful welled water, pumped from 75 feet below the surface, 10 feet of clay and 65 of sand, her friend once researched county well drill permit records for her.
she made a pot of marinara, boiled 3 lbs of potatoes, planned for pancakes, printed out dutch oven bread recipes,
she set out the dog’s paw wax and his wardrobe of coats,
she refreshed her vintage wool blankets on low heat with honeysuckle-infused dryer sheets,
found her favorite j. crew wool men’s sweater, moss green — circa 1999, which reminded: she best learn some knitting – for repairs and darning, at the very least, the cuff seam is unraveling, but, my god, it’s so warm.
she filled all the bird feeders before sunset, although she’s spotted deer at them at twilight and midnight — using their tongues to excavate the seed,
she set the snow shovel and outdoor broom just outside, beside her back door
all this,
just in case
freezing lines and tree limbs knock the power out
and Lake Effect drifts become temporarily insurmountable
she’s always prepared, she always knows what to do
or can generally figure it out, figure a way out of it – and, without GPS
except:
what to do in
a genocide and in climate collapse.
Continue reading “preparation”Rebecca Solnit of The Guardian in late July penned a piece which misrepresents climate acceptance, realism and planetary hospice solely as a harmful defeatism and doomerism.
Renaee Churches wrote an important and thoughtful response that will not reach an audience as large as Solnit’s, and is excerpted below:
We have already lost the climate battle and it is stories or opinions like the one above, that are preventing others from grasping this, and stopping us from taking the kinds of collective adaptive responses appropriate on a local and global scale.
The not-too-late framing is a dangerous one. It means people are prepared to wait for global elites to roll out the energy transition, to deploy such ‘solutions’ as carbon capture technologies, or other flawed techno fixes, aimed at making those elites wealthy, while not stopping the baked in warming that is already here and accelerating. It is only when we finally break through the not-too-late taboo that we will begin the work in earnest of adaptation to reduce suffering as much as we can.
We need to normalise talk about collapse and have a broad, society-wide, honest discussion about how we can respond. These discussions are already happening behind closed doors by the Militaries of the world, by Insurance Agencies, and the Financial Sector elites. So we don’t need more writers like Solnit advising the masses to effectively keep calm and carry on. Rather we need a clear-eyed look at the reality of our situation — as a failing global industrial civilisation.
Then together, as ordinary people, we can adjust, grieve and determine how best to navigate the great unravelling as it continues to play out in our lives.
Renaee Churches, Medium
this is my response to Solnit’s piece, which will reach even fewer people:
Climate acceptance and Planetary Hospice involve the refusal to endorse,
and the honesty to resist, further extraction from and destruction of the Earth and injuries to indigenous and marginalized communities of People across the World and to the remaining, marginally or tenuously stable or life-supportive swaths or pockets of wildlife, forests, tundra, deserts, wetlands, lakes, rivers
and ocean.
the limineen | earthling, poet & crone 