Untitled – after The Poetic Edda

The world is evergreen 
a sacred tree suffering agony 
more than men know, more than humans 
who think they have the monopoly 
on pain, as they carry out daily atrocities
in decaying cities.

The world is a beast 
with horns, a soft snout 
and sea glass eyes, out of its depth
lowing its distress on desolate beaches
lined with waves of plastic 
which can’t be held back.

The world is a soot globe, 
hardened to diamond
buried deep beneath 
root forests
mined and plundered, glittering 
with darkness.

The world is invincible, we rotate
cutting and burning with impunity
the damage happens, too slowly for us to see
but from below the poison seeps up 
until all that is left are bones and shadows
and the world is an empty husk.