Storms are not cool
On the eve of a fourth storm on the Atlantic coast, I had to clarify some points.
Before flying away like a Twix wrapper that had been left on the coast, I threw a bottle into the sea… not a very anonymous SOS.
Credit: Angèle Debuire
Storms and the damage that comes with them is not cool. The cargo ships that are washed up on our beaches are not cool. Oil spills are not cool. The helicopters that prowl during the night in search of drowned people are not cool. The hygienic tampons, that are no longer very hygienic, which are found on the sand alongside 150 plastic bags, 200 cotton swabs and enough bottle caps to rebuild a Coca-Cola factory, are not cool.
Look at the sea, look at it well.
It shows it’s fangs, it has lots of teeth.
It has been knocking us out for a few weeks, with it’s wind and hollow punches.
It is fed up of our tantrums, of our desires.
Look at the sea, look at it well,
how it changes, how it fights.
It is far from cool to see the sea crying
when every day it heckles at us.
Look at your mothers, look at them well,
those that have rocked you throughout this time,
those that have fed you, those who have blessed you,
the one that has chosen or given you life.
Look at your mothers, look at them well,
understand that we do not mess around.
When that one who rocks us is angry,
there is no backtracking.
It is a question of humanity, of turbulences in the world.
On the eve of a fourth storm on the Atlantic coast, I clench my buttocks, I clench my teeth.
Because the storms, are not cool.
Credit: Angèle Debuire
Elisa Routa
http://elisarouta.tumblr.com/<