They call it stick ‘cause it sticks;
The gears whine as they grind and twist
Entwined just fine until I try to shift.
Shit. Was that third or fifth
I think as I’m pitched
Hit the wheel with my head
And come up embarrassed
But not dead yet.
Heaving deep breaths to suppress
The existential dread
That makes each drive a guilt trip
(cause each deft press
Is one less fresh breath for my kids,
If I get that far, driving like this).
They call it stick ‘cause it sticks
Around in the air too long for our species to live
Two degrees and rising seas,
A world on the brink and I’m worried
About getting around at a quick enough speed?
Life goes fast enough I think.
Cruising in fifth, going extinct
Dying en mas in the Anthropocene.
Arrogant enough to think
That post-Anthro won’t be what it means.
Arrogant enough to try for sixth
To blow out the motor, make a lever a stick
And seven billion people into corpses.
But humbly we insist
That’s just the way that it is,
We can change the climate
But not the way that we live.