Sonnet #267

We could take it all, someday, you understand

It is possible that man and woman mine it all

And nothing’s left in the ground, and drills fall

silent and all the rock down to the lava lands

have nothing left to take — We live in a finite world

It only feels infinite because we are far more finite

We couldn’t possibly make our way among the firmament

We will birth, love, death in only corners, gather pearls

Where we may, and never know the cost of what we take

There is a limit to the soil, a limit to the oil, a limit

One day, we’ll scrape it up, and that’s all we’ll take

Because there’ll be nothing left but climate

Burning off what’s left of us, the oceans boil to lakes

of fire, and the fever breaks; this place is finite.

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