Pernicious Ghosts

The oil over water
A thousand rainbow fish
a-glitter in the sun,
A thousand particulates plastic,
netted lattice o’er necks,
Stuffed gills—cannot breathe—
In our blood;
We are next.
A thousand particles floating,
endless in the gyre—
accumulate trash,
from each coast.
Hideous progeny;
when flesh is gone,
Those are our ghosts.