poem
Volume 37, Number 4

The Long Heat

What you allow is what will continue.
But you’re tired of carrying the weight 
of the future on your back. Like everyone

you had dreams. You had hopes.
The problem appears to be a knot
we can’t untie. The machines

working day and night.
The wells pumping. The gas burning, turning the air too hot to breathe.

Still, we drop off
the recycling at the landfill
and drive away empty-handed.


—Ed Meek