We Disaster Tourists Travel to the Salton Sea – by Marianne Szlyk

We Disaster Tourists Travel to the Salton Sea
by Marianne Szlyk

Last year’s flowers stand,

sun-bleached kindling for the fire
about to happen here.

Blue sky flames, a torch
in the earth’s hands. The sun is
the white-hot center.

No one smokes. Engines
do not idle. Air effaces
smells of life and death.

All that remains in
the sea’s heart will never quench
the flames we wait for.

We wait, take small sips
of bottled water, then wait
some more. We tourists

Fly from disaster
to disaster, our quick flights
adding fuel to the flames.

Note: this poem was published in Snapping Twig, 2015.