try to keep yourself—somehow—

tied: to the earth, perhaps—find joints

and sinews that echo your own in

the tree across the water, discover

home in the shelter of hedges or trace

a life down the edges of the river.

please, remember to stay tied:

maybe in her tender touch,

or in the glance shared—across an

expanse or two meters. above all—

i’ll keep repeating—be tied: hear the strings

plucked so far away, feel the echo, count

your luck to be here, to be bound, and know

how easy it is to be found.


a comforting thought: that

the arc of the moral universe

is long, but it appears to bend

towards crabs. one day, our

exoskeletons will protect us

from the rain, and from the end;

as the seas rise and fall, we will

find homes in the tide pools, or in

the remnants of buildings left empty

by humans. we will build

a better world, as crabs; they say

crabs can’t feel pain. we’ll never

hurt, or perhaps we won’t believe

convenient claims which salve

our guilt over boiling creatures alive.