• Environmental Angels – Jim Smith
• The Seeker – R.H. Dolman
by krista schwimmer
that the squirrel i feed daily
will be hit by a passing car
in front of me —
that my husband will walk the liquor store
& never return —
that i will accidentally kill
my pet crow in a fit of rage —
that i will be largely right about people’s
that the toilet will be dirty
when a stranger comes to visit —
that i will hate my old age body
with all its aches and pains —
that i will spend time in prison
for no apparent reason, arrested
for a crime i don’t remember —
that i will wake up too late
to my own beautiful life —
that i will not be able to prevent
what i am able to prevent —
that this worry will wind me up
& choke me —
that i will be writing poems
when i should be writing songs —
that at the end i will not matter
even to my self.
By Jim Smith
The environmental angels are coming
They’ll be watching you, and waiting
They’ll see you when you dump your plastic
In our beautiful and living ocean
They’ll see you hide your nuclear waste –
it’s a time bomb sent to the future
They’ll see you when you burn carbon –
wood, coal, paper, gasoline – without thinking
They’ll see it all – your high crimes and misdemeanors
Don’t think that you can get away with it
They are coming from the bowels of the Earth
They are coming from the apartment down the street
They are coming from a bedroom in suburbia
They are coming from within you.
They’ll work in your offices, on your ships,
in your factories and fields
Day after day, for years on end
acting so innocent and dumb.
Then they’ll come at you – oh, yes
When you least expect it
They’ll take you at night and in broad daylight
No tears! Your case is closed, your deed is done.
The crime is ecocide
Your punishment is our salvation
Some might call them terrorists
others will cheer them as saviors
They’re angels, all right,
coming to save us from ourselves
Before the pulsing
his magic instrument
over the beach,
picks up a signal
in his headphones
and he abides.
So do the clouds
and the birds.
He bends down,
sifts sand through a perforated pail
what he has found.
If it’s of any value
he stores it in a pouch
fastened around his belly.
If not, he tosses it aside
and moves along.