A Hole in the Sky
By Jayne Martin
I’m not sure what to do about the hole in the sky
heat that sears my skin desert dry when
no rain falls to quench the earth’s thirst and
we all still want to be first to own the latest
insert-toy-here made by children over there
for two cents an hour and our planet cries,
species die, to stroke mascara on eyes filling screens
in the hands of beings consumed by their own desire.
Never mind the lands gone barren, famine
hollowing out bodies to bones, bellies that bloat.
Never mind fish that now float in oceans of fire
Never mind wondering why.
We know, you and I.
We know, you and I.
***
Jayne Martin is the flash fiction editor at The San Franciscan Magazine. Her collection of microfiction, “Tender Cuts,” was published by Vine Leaves Press. Coming in spring of 2022, “The Daddy Chronicles-Memoir of a Fatherless Daughter” from Whiskey Tit Books. She lives in California, but dreams of living in Paris.
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