What Did the Ocean Say to the Shore? (And What Do You Say Back?)
2022, Junior, Poetry & Spoken Word
It’s a joke! Nothing, it waved!
But in reality—obviously, nothing. oceans don’t speak.
Except maybe in the rush and the crash
Of the frothing bursts and brash
The sounds coming closer with every day.
And what do you say?
To the blue puddle before you?
Do you apologize, “Sorry! My bad!”
for the plastic in her guts and the poison in her throat
and the dead things she cradles in a mother’s aching arms
(And you know, I’m kind of sorry, but I’m mostly angry.
I’m fourteen, I’m not the one dumping all that oil into the sea.)
So do you forget the carbon the C-suite city suits love,
the carbon Poseidon now groans underneath,
(please give him a break, he can’t bench all of that
See the grated grit of his teeth?)
But really, it’s too much weight,
and wait. What were we talking about again?
Oh yeah—how it’s easy to forget.
But I remember my sisters, who can speak along to the entirety of Moana,
And in my mind they shriek and run from the waves,
And then they turn around and giggle, taunting,
“Fish peeeeeeeeee in you!!!!!”
And I think that it’s okay if that’s what you say by the oceanside,
Just say anything (let your inner John Cusack shine!)
I hope you say something about the ocean because I hope you think about it,
I hope you see the deceptive sparkling blue and think about
the microplastics from the bottles of the water you consume.
So do you cry for the sea turtles (like the ‘VSCO girls’ from two years back)
because maybe it’s a little your fault, our fault, too.
And it’s okay if you cry, I’ll be proud if you do;
Crying in the ocean is ‘peak slay’
More slay if you get our waters back to blue.
(and slay is ironic, by the way)
(except I say it so much it’s a problem, but I am not ready to talk about that!)
(No, I am ready to talk about a carbon tax and ocean pollution stats!)
What if the ocean could speak?
I don’t know, but I imagine
It’d say a helluva lot more than a wave.