When I was an undergraduate student incapable of mastering either geology, biology, or physics, I thought James Lovelock’s Gaia theory that the whole planet existed as a living organism was some serious New Age hoodoo.
Do you know what an invasive species is? I know the names of a few: Queen Anne’s lace, purple loosestrife, Asian carp, zebra mussels.
Turkeys, corn, squash, and a host of other domesticates form part of what Alfred W. Crosby famously coined the “Columbian Exchange” – transfers between the New World and the Old of plants and animals neither had known before.
And so it was a balm in those trying times that routine had begun to lower its benignant hand over Mrs Jefferson Davis, Varina to her friends, Winnie alone to her father and husband, and her children and her people.
It is said that when Turner
visited the museum and saw
his painting on display,
The car climbs the summer air and hangs for a moment like a blue marlin breaching the sea, poised in the air before the fall.
We are in a moment of possible radical change, and we have the unfortunate death of George Floyd to focus our minds as we rethink how we deal with racism.
This is not a poem about bees,
but about vanishing.
In September 2017 a fatberg weighing around 130 tonnes with a length of over 250 metres was discovered in a Whitechapel sewer.
Long lines
outside storefronts –
like a
strange game of
hopscotch
