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Rage Rage

With copious apologies to poet Dylan Thomas

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Don't just evacuate and meditate, agitate, it's nearly too late,

As my hero, Swedish teenager, Greta Thunberg, says.

There is no before and no after, only implacable present.

No winners and no losers, only passengers on the arc called Earth,

crossing sea that's rising, air that's blackening, temperature that's soaring.

Homo sapiens, us, created infernos

Hell born in Paradise; no Phoenix rose from the ashes that fell on 14,000 Butte houses, only 14 rebuilt, nor did Phoenix rise on farmers and field workers Sonoma 2019,

swarms of survivors from 2017 fires still suffering PTSD,

though Pollyannas say it's all good. "Sonoma Strong," bla bla bla,

insensitive to homeless suffering, and what of toxic air pollution in India now?

Maybe, despite tech, our savvy, humans not savvy survive future winds, fires, droughts, earthquakes, climate change, global warming.

Maybe species doomed like dinosaurs,

only big question now how to make Earth exit less painful not just for moneyed madmen but for all, from Delhi and Cotati to Ojai and Shanghai.

Meanwhile, do not go gently into the dying of the light

Rage, rage; don't hesitate

Rage, rage against the coming of the night.

We welcome your contribution. To have your topical essay of 350 words considered for publication, write openmic@bohemian.com.

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