Playing With Climate Models

Tonight, I’m hoping to catch the complexity of a curve refusing to touch its limit: the deep ocean seething, air wicking sweat from the soil’s scrabble. What am I willing to admit? The line bends straight as ants trusting scent given by the one that plods along before them—who will mourn the last to follow as it lays down draping mold in the dirt? Nothing dies, only energy is given. Last night, I sat in the desert, heat written upon the rock’s face. Even after dark, its beating seemed to breathe, to suggest my hand, if only gentle enough, could push through to its heart, hold its stillness, wanting to shift out of place. Everything changes, I know. Equilibrium greens each new reality, accepted like algae underneath sea ice. Energy is given, transferred. I run the scenarios again, play them like a scream trapped in a tree’s rings.

Jared Beloff is a teacher and poet who lives in Queens, NY with his wife and two daughters. You can find his work in Contrary Magazine, Rise Up Review, Barren Magazine, Bending Genres, The Shore and elsewhere. He is the editor of the Marvel inspired poetry anthology, Marvelous Verses. His work was nominated for Best of the Net and the Pushcart Prize for 2021.

Published April 4 2022