Christmas in the Anthropocene

By Carli Jacobsen

It’s raining in Scandinavia, and it’s warm,

I reminisce the harsh and cold droplets on my skin.

Even more, I miss the snow.

Three Yule’s ago, the lake froze over,

and i bought a pair of ice skates from an old man in the newspaper.

Nevermind, that was in March, actually.

They predict a wind storm soon,

so I walk every day at this lake.

Some days, you can see auroras,

but it should be too far south for that.

Most days, there are too many clouds

clouded judgement, clouded thoughts,

They’re only hoping our holiday gifts arrive in time

from straits that only hear bombs, only see smoke.

The light is taken at three, I am guided by gold tinsel hanging on forest trees

and mushrooms, still lush on December seventeen.

like it’s a Christmas in the Anthropocene.

or is it a Capitalocene? I don’t seem to recall the difference

as I stroll through the market and I think “sustainable Christmas?”

where crayfish* invade the fish monger stalls

at astonishing prices

for my wallet, and for the planet.

And this Christmas, we listen to music,

War is over? I think twice;

of the ard asli [the original land], **

about a birth of a boy in Bethlehem

trapped under the rubble,

of the Christmas shit I want, not need

of the BBC instead of Love,

actually.

*crayfish is an invasive species in Denmark - reference to prominent debate about the ethics of killing off invasive species.

‘Anerkend Palelaestina’ which in Danish means ‘recognise Palestine’ on the walls of Copenhaghen. Picture taken by author