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Finding My Roots, by Jeremy Bishop
We’re Sick Now and Earth’s Healing Real Fast
Tim Fab-Eme


I’m out in the woods stretching my legs, 
the way Moneyman anoints his head with alcohol 
on paydays and Aunt Queen Bee entreats me 
to call God down, to save her man 
from side-chicks and marijuana. I don’t bother none 
about oilmen and their lust for rotten things. 
 
COVID-19 has shut us in, like a despot, 
and all our love for oil and gas 
and negative science has become naught as noise. 
We’re resting from NBC and VOA breaking news 
about trade wars, petty politics and greedy folks. 
 
We’re sick now and Earth’s healing real fast; 
a grand summit is on in the Sahara–
everyone’s there except Human. Coyote sits still 
on a dinner table with Wolf talking about 
 
the unusual peace they’ve got. Zebra and Lion 
mock Human for gathering things she doesn’t need 
to live, like nuclear arms and diamond rings. 
 
Of all creatures, Tortoise says, Human’s the most 
pitiable. Reckon God’s regret about the damn thing? 
 
We’re sick now and Earth’s healing real fast. ​
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