artificial mud

rain danced along the boards of the dock

spinning, swirling, speaking

speaking to you

to us

screaming in vain

with every stroke of the clock

screaming louder

yet all we do is sit and gawk

“why so,”

it yells

“why must i carry your discards

off to the dream waters,

off to the bays”

garbage flecks chase after the streams

crinkling, cracking, decaying

chasing like a wild boar in pursuit

like a bear to a pure white rabbit

smashing its muddy paws into the white

dirtying it to the seams

and now the young who should cling to that fur

get infecting with this disease

this dirt,

this grime,

this muck.

the fox that feeds on the rabbits

spits at the taste

gags at the smell

but lets itself be poisoned

for it has no choice, does it?

no choice against its habits 

we are the bears to the white rabbits

our aqua rabbits,

which we watch it pour to those around us,

poisoning like the foxes

and we sit

and we watch

and we ask,

“well, who’s done it?”

pointing like a hypocrite

pointing our fingers because that's all we can do

“have you done it?”

“or maybe you?”

“or maybe me?”

we point with our muddy paws

at the glistening dirty stream

just swirling down the dock

“who’s done it?”