Will posterity toss us in the stir fry
or roast? Shall we draft wills
against unpleasant editions of
unguarded letters and muttering
over gulfs of silence, canyons, gullies?
Help me please with topography, 
names of low-lying islands and
peninsulas slated to be drowned
by seas rising, earth heating up,
such chatter infesting politics
and verse, yet who will give me
the words? Mother, son, girlfriend? 
I made order and it went astray.
Gathered treasures from four
continents, ferreted the other day
into a thief’s duffel bag. I lost five
pounds this week walking.