Law Of Least Return Poem by Timothy Geiger

Like the ocean we are all becoming
fat with everything we don’t need.
The fabled indigo surf-line now
the dull bruise of a storm-tossed sky.

On the shoreline a rot of abandonment
clenches the high-tide. Discarded coolers,
disposable lighters, detergent bottles
and bowling balls, mark the quiet conclusion
of brilliance.
What seagulls mistake
for generosity could get anything shot.
So how to explain the high price of blue-
fin tuna, the sixty year old sea turtle strangled
in a fishing net?
How do I explain to my son
the tons of plastic adrift in the Pacific,
an expanding space twice the size of Texas
that will never go away. You’ve heard this
before but you weren’t listening. Were you?

The after-effects, like every long sleep
underground, seemed so far away.
Like the ocean my son has grown
diminished, forgotten for granted, bye-bye.