Jane Goodall’s Hologram Comforts Tapioca, Earth’s Last Remaining Chimpanzee

There are memories that remain across generations
like single-use plastic, the wind shaking the trees.
We are sorry. Do you forgive us for our dividends
and fixed mortgages, the satisfaction in the sound
of roots pulled from the ground, each snap of bone.
Recognition shimmers, muscles stretch to find purchase:
it was just business, our cars, conveyor belts, HD TVs,
security against the night’s silence. Extreme weather
is coming. We are so sorry. For the droning of fans, heels
echoing hallway tiles, injections, nets dragging the ocean.
Come, Tapioca, there is so little time to explain tax structures,
the limits of interest or the shape of nimbostratus clouds in front
of the sun. We wanted to tell you that we want, all bared teeth
and knuckles, the branches swaying with the weight of our risk.