On the mutilated side
branch I don't have to be
intoxicated by the resin

to see the twilight
of people everywhere
in the tree, their cables

chopped through the roots
their plastics sown
in the earth and the sea

and to hear the cries
that stick in my breath
the sadness of ignoring

the consequences of what we think
we need, oh, how soberly can I live
so as not to be complicit?