North of Hawai’i the currents converge, conspiring with the sea-strew wastes to bring about our first plastic island. Lost in Pacific doldrums, we wash up, like Ginger and Mary Ann, on the shores of The Great Garbage Patch. We use water bottles and shopping bags to create radios. We listen to the news of NASA and signal the satellites with S.O.S. messages spelled in Styrofoam. We build our huts from take-out cartons: sticky white rice, chop suey, egg foo young. We wait for rescue only to return and extend our island’s footprint. We reclaim the water for conquest. The sea-birds nest in our ever-increasing archipelago. Maintaining our dominance, we never learn.
Andre F. Peltier (he/him) is a Lecturer III at Eastern Michigan University where he teaches African American Literature, Science Fiction, Afrofuturism, Poetry, and writing. He lives in Ypsilanti, MI, with his wife and children. His poetry has recently appeared in CP Quarterly, In Parentheses, Lucky Jefferson, Fevers of the Mind, Punt Volat, The JFA Human Rights Journal, Griffel Magazine, Barzakh, The Madrigal Press, Fahmidan Journal, Spillover Magazine, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, About Place, Novus, Open Work, The Write Launch, Closed Eye Open, and the anthology Turning Dark into Light. Many of his poems are forthcoming in various journals. In his free time, he obsesses about soccer and comic books.
