The Apocalypse Will Not Be Televised, and Neither Is the Effect of the Hurricane on Cuba
by Denise Dumars
Auctober Apocalypto
The blossoms are red
and the cat is white
but ashes darken his fur
(what do they say of cats
after dark?)
A deep grey-purple
has boiled the sky
It’s a time of pumpkin spice death
a gas mask and a hazmat suit
My mother wakes and cannot breathe
the EMT truck is as red as hibiscus
Have you any pumpkin spice pan de muertos?
Do the teeth of the dead still gnash?
(Will the white cat hide
at the edge of the forest
sit in the rib cage of the girl
Still listed on the milk carton
as “missing”?)
Everybody is outside, garage doors open
it’s much too hot to stay indoors
here in the suburbs
“stars” with orange contrails blaze the sky
But we are too busy fighting fires
to teach the children about Samhain
as the last harvest crisps white ash
but that does not mean
we do not harvest what we can
They speak of high prices and extinction
what will Halloween be without chocolate?
Is there to be no avocado for our chips?
Enjoy the wine while we still have it
skin cancer killed my mother’s white cat.
–Copyright 2025 by Denise Dumars
Artist’s Statement
Things haven’t changed much in regard to ongoing disasters since I wrote this poem in 2019. My mother passed away (at the age of 101, no less) but the extinction of chocolate due to global climate change is even more imminent this Halloween than it was when I wrote the poem. The poem was inspired by reports of the effects of global warming on various crops; the seasonal fires that so devastate our Southern California landscape in the fall; the resultant breathing issues my mother faced; and a photograph of a white cat with ash-smeared fur sitting in a rib cage in a forest.
I really like this poem, but haven’t managed to sell it. Until recently, genre poems that talked about our current environmental struggles just weren’t publishable. I’m serious; I wrote the poem in 2019 and it has taken several years for SF/F/H poetry magazines to get with the program. Perhaps if this poem were solely about my late mother’s health it would be easier to place, as poetry is often considered “personal.” But that’s not the poem I wanted to write.
I wanted to evoke apocalypse based on real-life disasters both personal and global. I wanted to talk about how our constant state of emergency is eroding everything. Skin cancer (the hole in the ozone layer?) really did kill my mom’s white cat. And we have not made any progress that I can see on mitigating ongoing environmental disasters, especially now with AI being an existential threat to the environment.
There is progress on only one item mentioned in the poem: in 2025 you can now find pumpkin spice Pan de Muertos for your Dia de los Muertos observance.
About Denise Dumars
Denise Dumars has published several volumes of poetry, two volumes of short stories, and two nonfiction books. She has been nominated for the Rhysling Award, Dwarf Stars award, the Pushcart Prize, and the Elgin Award. Her poetry chapbook Cajuns in Space won third place for the Elgin award, and her most recent book of poetry, Animal Gnosis, was nominated. She currently has poetry in several journals, including Dreams & Nightmares, Eldritch Prayers, Spectral Realms, Eternal Haunted Summer, and more. Denise been a college English professor, a librarian, a literary agent, and an entertainment journalist. She lives in Los Angeles’ beautiful South Bay region. Find her at www.DeniseDDumars.com, on Facebook, Instagram, Bluesky, and Mastodon.