“Huddled in shadows”. Greta Riondato Ink, watercolor and digital.
Remember when Amazon.com only sold books?
In the wee hours of the night
I fall down an internet hole
& resurface with an air purifier
“From Earth's Biggest Selection”
reads the confirmation on my phone
After the dopamine wears off, I text a friend: i mildly hate myself
tho I'd like to think I hate Jeff Bezos as well
...
Dopamine can trick my brain
but seems it cannot trick
my lungs
chest
hurt so bad when wildfire smoke rose
cloaked partitions between BC
Washington
California
Oregon
My body
craved clean oxygen
Weeks of rust coloured skies
& weak bodies
of water
A camera roll overflows
with smoggy ocean nudes
...
Looks like Beijing said my father—a mood
as white people stared at my Asian face before
complaining about made-in-China goods
taking too long to ship from Amazon
during the COVID-19 pandemic
Meanwhile, in an elementary school class
a child asks if they are called “Gen Z”
because they are the last generation
on the planet e—
& now I hear babies born during
and after coronavirus are called
“Gen C”
How many air purifiers does the earth need
to breathe? I wonder
if Gen Z or Gen C will learn any names
of the 16,000 species of trees growing
in the Amazon jungle
‘It cannot trick my lungs’. Greta Riondato 2023 Ink and digital.
Smoke signals
...are perhaps the most beautiful form of the letter ever to evolve.
For what is a letter but to speak one’s thoughts at a distance?
Which is why poems and prayers are letters.
The origins of poems, prayers, and letters all have this in common: urgency.
—from "Remarks on Letters” by Mary Ruefle
A dog at my bedside barks
at the screech of a mailbox
In this dream, two mouths open
and close, unhinged
Within my 30-year lifetime
a posted letter became an e-
mail, became a text
message, became a tweet,
became a 15-second
story, vanishing on instagram
The origins of poems, prayers, and letters
have all this in common: urgency.no dms I type in my bio
(limited to 150 characters)
I would rather receive a letter.
But there is no mail today
just a photocopied flyer
for yard services from a man
named Trinh Nguyen
Perhaps
we’ve all romanticised letters
Which is why poems and prayers are letters.
Along ancient China’s great wall
a wisp of smoke
was a signal for threat
And is this why my poems
and tweets and vanishing
stories are more often A Cry
For Help?
Can anyone hear me shouting
into the void?
Void... void... void... [echoes]
For what is a letter but to speak
one’s thoughts at a distance?
[Dog yowling into the night]
Smoke signals are perhaps the most
beautiful form of the letter
ever to evolve.
$888/1br—looking for home (vancouver/unceded coast salish territories)
For Luca & Nina
Morning light saturates my face
as I poop, read a poetry chapbook
& absorb vitamin D
Is this what you would call ‘peak
multi-tasking’? I hear some
cannot will not poop in other people’s homes
or public washrooms, but I guess
I am an exception
On the bathroom counter
potted purple shamrock
stretches leaves to bask in sun
I had worried while brushing my teeth
last night, the houseplant huddled in shadows
as if folding in, upon itself
This summoned memories of a place
where I lived, nearly ten years ago:
a roommate who offered to share food
with everyone, but me
Never knew what I did do to her
To be made to feel as if I should fold
in upon myself, too
Each time I move homes
I discover something new—
Such as, I am allergic to cats
Need a copy of the lease. Post-it notes are not
an effective form of communication.
I really love large windows.
Sometimes leaving is a choice
But not always in this teardown-
renovicting-jerkface of a city
Suffocating in a shitty housing situation
is too often code for “I can’t afford to live anywhere else
on my own/without mould”
My friend say they’ve killed this plant
in their bathroom a dozen times, if not more
It comes back to life again each time
they spin its body towards the light
or pour it a glass of water
A note on the title: This poem was drafted at a time when bachelor/studio/small 1-bedroom apartments in Vancouver, BC—one of the most expensive cities to live in, both in Canada and North America—could be rented for $800-1000 per month. This kind of rent was often connected to specific apartment units with tenants who were grandfathered into lease agreements in older buildings. Sadly, this now seems next-to-impossible to find. I hope anyone with affordable, below market-rate rent can safely and happily live in their home for as long as they so choose.
