“in case of emergency”

by Patrycja Humienik



i.

if/when glass enters the bloodstream try not to panic you can cry you can
drink detox tea phone a friend take the call in the tub go to urgent care it is
generally not recommended you rage re: current systems of care/lack thereof if you must
you might rage against the sharp edges those little glittering mirrors refracting light

ii.

     cave filled with kelp and sea anemones clutching
                                     slivers of glass so sparkly no medusa             soft
                          sediment sunken forest just glass like a feast

cue the hooves                            kicking up sand and stampede
of mouths filled with kelpcoral&plastic
           stampede of plastic coming our way

         oh how we would love to run             and be called horses

               we are not wild or hooved the hours not
       ours             neither is the kelp in this        underwater forest
                                    but we did break the glass




iii.

a shoreline bleeding/brought to its knees
brimming with plastic/nearly invisible but felt

you feel it/somewhere/it should not be/worry
is generally not recommended/it is just trying to find a home





Patrycja Humienik
Photo by Gabrielle Bates

Patrycja Humienik is a trilingual Polish-American writer and performance artist based in Seattle, WA. Her poetry is featured/forthcoming in Passages North, The Shallow Ends, Poetry is Dead, and No Tender Fences: An Online Anthology of Immigrant & First-Gen Poetry. She has co-developed performances for Titwrench Festival, Film on the Rocks at Red Rocks Amphitheatre, and REDCAT New Original Works Festival, and in collaboration with people in solitary confinement via Dances for Solidarity. Find her on Twitter @jej_sen.