“A poem about the drowning of places, among them Bangladesh, well expressed in rage and disgust: ‘an ocean frothing at the mouth’, ‘the swirling swoon of sea’, ‘let us fill the lungs of a mother tongue/with billowing exhaust fumes.’” – Gillian Clarke
User Iluvtacobell29 on Yahoo Answers
Tells you Bangladesh will
Have sunken by tomorrow,
all lowercase, unbothered.
The BBC extends the life expectancy of
Swarms of aunties and uncles,
The serene exhale of Rangamati,
The Tango Ice Blast of Himalayan snow,
The vomit of an ocean frothing at the mouth,
Chews up a country like a sinner on the A train
Let us fill the lungs of a mother tongue
With billowing exhaust fumes,
We’ve got the time.
Sublimate the land,
Watch the swirling swoon of sea
Suck the life out of a city or
Just for joy,
Even a few hundred, hashtag productive.
Seep through the veins of the Earth,
Like a coffee stain on a freshly pressed shirt.
Last stop, Lagos,
Mind the gap, dear,
By the time I’ve typed this up
It’s probably gotten shorter,
To 2048, where
You’ll see them underwater.