hurry hurry run no, drive no, fly we need to go we need to get to— and then you’ll have your last breath leave behind your children, grandchildren to sit in your refuse as their mitochondria imbibe plastic become a new (partially) synthetic species there is always a genocide going on this time we are wiping out our entire species our entire selves each time, the response is: it was not mine I did not have time I had to hurry hurry hurry to get to we think we have direction we think we have autonomy unless it’s responsibility and then we are slaves—too pressured to choose whose slaves theirs or our own desires unwilling to sacrifice convenience I need the take-out I need the bag I can’t bring my own I would have to think ahead go without feel punished grandma, did you ever scuba dive yes did you ever see a reef yes what was it like colorful vibrant like in the books and videos yes will I get to see that how did it get like this we didn’t stop it soon enough why (pause) we thought we had more time we were busy with what with with with people are always busy with something you follow them those men who think they can overcome anything but they are just building a steel sepulcher beneath the dead earth there will be nothing left to look at (except lifeless women clad in scanty fake leather) but you are not a monster and you don’t breathe underground they have fangs live on blood of their own kind the giant sea turtle with plastic bottles tangled in seaweed tied to her toes she flips, flaps, tries to dislodge it but it won’t move besides there’s only ever more where it came from you tell yourself you don’t care because you were never going to see the Great Barrier Reef anyway life in color will vanish into YouTube videos we’ll tell our children to watch this is what the world looked like before we all had to breathe Delhi air ride on a boat through plastic instead of fish travel north no farther north to find a thin blanket of snow at Christmastime we can’t have trees anymore we cut them all but you can look at a picture grandma, is this a real clamshell no just a piece of plastic that opens and closes like a clamshell it was used for holding things like what food then why did someone throw it out it was usually only used once once yes then what then it was tossed here how many (silence. head shake.) why your mouth will open, jaw dropping the words, useless, you close it again open close open gape she’ll giggle you look like a fish or at least the videos I’ve seen of fish and then she’ll return to hunting through the garbage piled on the beach searching through seaweed-wreathed plastic— the only human thing left to do: look for treasure I’m sorry we didn’t prevent this we were busy we were trying to we were going to it was important that