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Coughing Up the Climate

By William Doreski [Winner: 2nd Place]


The cold in my head is the climate.

Glaciers puddle at my feet.


The sea-rise troubles my horizon.

A hurricane roots in a sinus.


I want to shrug off this viral

cloud, but I also want to see


how the politics of the weather

result in shifting loyalties.


The angels of the north and south

meet with those of east and west


and cast dice for the one human soul.

I don’t participate in that soul


because my head cold anchors me

to the climate I keep coughing up.


Soon the embalmed planet will drop

into a bucket of dead tissue


and speaking for wind, rain, and blizzard

I’ll share kind words at the wake.


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