the dead tree
severed to match
the height of the rotting fence
kissing each of its dry cheeks.
a barrier of engineered wood and an executed elm
where shade used to be.
murdered for pop songs
and potato chips
and
single-serve packs of cherry-flavored electrolytes
because
water is not enough.
bitch i kill your air
i got the best hair
bitch i sour your oceans
to sing my emotions
bitch i sicken your soil
to believe my toil
bitch
bitch
bitch
bitch i got an everything button
press my button
get my mine
mine warmth, mine cold, mine food, mine love, mine cage
my passage
through a sea of oxygen
spilled from a tree i can still
see in memory.