Pipelines of root and mycelium
connect every tree and mushroom
in our town. Seeds are regularly planted
to grow new homes
for ladybugs Steller Jays and working-class citizens
though they leaf into luxury condominiums
drinking from a blue-blooded lake.
Near the bank of the river,
an adventurous woman mines for plastic.
She has decided to build a dishwasher
entirely from scratch. Meanwhile,
in the kitchen, her fingerprints ferment
on glass, on overcast cutlery,
on the lone appliance-handle
she welded herself.
Downstream, children release eggs
of rainbow colors into giddy
white-brown water. It is a yearly event,
emptying buckets to replenish
the native population
of mermaids and sea monsters,
which have been endangered
since they were proven to be
a hallucination brought on by boat gas
and a smattering of golden hay fever.
Mama bear sleeps in a nest of fruit
-snack and chip bags,
small as a bird.
Her snores sprout purple plumes
of Sierra onion-flower,
rose meadowsweet,
cobwebby thistle.