The Way I Wash the Dishes


I wash the dishes with phosphates

And they go outside, down the drain.

They land in rivers with

that now have chemicals in their gills.


I water the flowers with oil

that leaks from my car.

The spill piles onto animal's fur

and stains their once bright and shiny coats.


I color the sky gray with smog from my truck.

The emission fumes seep into the lungs of birds

who have no say to their fate,

who have no say in what kind of world they live in.


I write on trees with my pencil

because I take paper for granted.

Another home is lost,

soon escalates to a forest that is bare.


I throw drinking water right out the door.

I have plenty but the others that inhabit this planet may not.

I get bigger, taking up all the room built for all creatures.

I am a monster, tearing up the world I live in.


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741