Bunched like discarded tissue,
origami kisses blown to profit, companies,
the ssible ink of capitalism.
The news unspooled like a mixtape, words
weathered into sun and wind, all dep, ould, edia
come spring. Paper returning to the pulp
from which it was formed. Until, over, ahead—time’s
obscene political leanings, how it exists outside
the frame. And within in it. Post-hurricane
sandstone coastline cartwheels into the sea.
Note the pale green fossil layer—prehistoric
footprint exposed by storm surge.
Fossil or rock? Give it a lick.
Decomposed inorganic minerals
from bone will stick to the tongue. Gather
the jou left and assemble into sense:
people the millions on the page.
Radio something new.
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Bren Simmers is the winner of the 2022 CBC Poetry Prize and the author of four books including the wilderness memoir Pivot Point (Gaspereau Press, 2019) and If, When (Gaspereau Press, 2021). She lives on Epekwitk (PEI).
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The Litter I See Project 