Silent Spring Haiku                                                                         —Craig Santos Perez


“Everywhere was a shadow of death.”
—Rachel Carson, Silent Spring (1962)

         

dead
     bees
   on
the
   steps


                 to
            our
                 new
                     home
                  what
              flow
           -ers


   un-
pol-
  lin-
    at-
  ed

“We Aren’t the Only Species” (repeat aloud)

 

who age who change who language who pain who play who pray who save who mate who native who take who break who invade who claim who taste who want who talk who crawl who walk who yawn who trauma who laugh who care who hear who fear who steal who heal who friend who remember who sex who nest who settle who smell who help  who eat who feed who greed who sleep who dream who see who need who belong who bleed who speak who breathe who breathe who breathe who think who drink who sing who thirst who birth who kill who smile who lick who listen who kiss who give who sick who piss who shit who swim who migrate who die who fight who cry who hide who mourn who mourn who mourn who work who school who tool who colonize who bond who protect who hope who lose who love who lonely who touch who moan who drown who hurt who hunt who run who hunger who nurse who suffer who build who trust who bury who future who house who house who house on this our only

  

 

 

 

[earth]

Dawn Dish Soap Haiku


     as we
wash
     dishes


            the feathers
                 of wild
            -life


soaked
     in spilled
oil


Craig Santos Perez

Craig Santos Perez is an indigenous Chamorro poet from the Pacific Island of Guam. He is the author of four collections of poetry and the co-editor of five anthologies. He is an associate professor in the English department at the University of Hawaiʻi, Mānoa.

ISSN 2472-338X
© 2019