POETRY: be(a)ring strai(gh)t

when the last mammoth died
we felt it in the air
and we knew
what started as a theory
one foot on the ice
followed by millions more
was now sad fact
the thing we once were
the thing we’ve been holding onto
was no longer our truth
we are something new now
we are people without definition
tumbling down the rainy coast
walking past her giant bones
tusks thrust in the air
like a monument or a grave
or a sundial
teaching us how
to walk south