Change Your Mind
Dad tells us why climate change is bullshit.
We eat and watch him teeter
along the edge of Occam’s razor, his faith
in the simplest explanation.
Climate change is too many things
for my father to believe in it.
He watches ice caps crack
like knuckles against palms,
while weathermen warn of record summers.
Papers print pictures of dead coral
and polar bears, but icons
soon turn cliché.
One hundred species die each day.
My ancestors fled from famine
from Ireland to London,
only to run again, to be Blitzed
I wonder where my children will flee to
and what from.
I wonder if there will be forgiveness
for a father’s sins
cast to his son.
You make my problem yours
Taking the complexity of my feelings
Describing them to me
So I no longer recognise them
My desire to be strong in your eyes
Makes me weak
Trying to shrug off your understanding of me
Like an old coat
Worn and heavy
It doesn’t fit
It never did
I see you on a salt shelf
surrounded by mountains
surrounded by sea
your breath heavy, thick
your speech gurgling
Your hands held high
your braided hair, the only thing holding
& down from unclimbable cliffs
a darkness seeps in on everything
I morse code, can you turn
can you change your orientation
can you jump from greenish rock to greenish rock
over unctuous pools
& navigate tiny gaps (in teeth filled reefs) to freedom