By Jeeni Criscenzo

Driving back to San Diego from a conference in Fresno
down 99 through the San Joaquin Valley,
you’d have to be sleep-driving not to see it – the Death Valley of California.
Miles after miles,
acres after acres,
east and west,
abandoned farmland as far as the mountain edged horizon,
not so long from being lush that you couldn’t identify what once was,
or dread what isn’t yet – that rugged desert
that comes next, after the tiniest bit of rain.

Void of even a cover crop to anchor the precious top-soil.
Void of the rich, dark fertile loam that could suckle an orange tree or grape vine.
Void of economic reward for risk and hard work and dreams.
Void of laborers and wages and food on their table
and ours.
Punctuated with newborn dust devils gaily perfecting their dance of devastation,
and signs designed to look handmade,
until you’ve seen too many, too perfectly identical,
declaring “Dams not Trains”
and “No Water = Higher Food Prices”

I needed more data to determine if the equation was valid.

There are only three sources of water:
It falls from the sky, gets saved in reservoirs or pumped from the ground.
Who cut off the rain? “Not I,” said the spider,
And according to the growers, politicians are to blame for cutting off the flow.
So whoever has the biggest dick, is sucking up ground water thousands of years old
to quench the thirst of lucrative almonds to be shipped to China.

It’s a race to the bottom – who can get it first.
It’s a race to the bottom,
and the San Joaquin Valley is sinking.
It’s a race to the bottom,
for people of color struggling in towns like East Potterville
where planners had planned for them to self-destruct
long before you could smell the sulphur and feel the slime between your fingers
when you run what comes from the tap,
long before more than 500 wells went dry,
long before California declared that every citizen has a right to safe drinking water.

San Joaquin Valley is sinking,
but you’ll get no sympathy from me.
I’m taking shorter showers and my lawn has gone brown,
like what I can flush down
with precious, potable
flushed out to the Pacific.

San Joaquin Valley is sinking,
and the security of the Homeland is at risk,
because half of America’s fruits, vegetables and nuts are grown there
and here’s an equation beyond refute: No water = No food.
And unlike your toilet, water used on crops goes back into the ground,
or into you, when you eat that juicy orange.

San Joaquin Valley is sinking.
As the miles melted through Bakersfield,
we climbed and descended the Grape Vine, heading down 5 to LA
when traffic came to a standstill,
and continued that way for hours and hours,
as the dashboard gauge reported it was 104 degrees outside on that October day,
as the gas gauge confirmed the rental SUV was only getting 14 miles to the gallon,
as I put my foot on the brake more than the gas,
watching hundreds of other gas-guzzlers crawling past.
You’d have to be sleep-driving not to see it – the Death of California.
Miles after miles,
east and west,
people in their cars going nowhere fast.

And I thought of the futility of dams.
Have we waited too long for that train?
Does it matter anymore which comes first,
when we’re are all sinking fast
in this race to the bottom
where the winner finishes last?

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Jeeni Criscenzo

Jeeni Criscenzo founded Amikas, a non-profit that works to house homeless women and children, particularly veteran women. She was one of the founders of Women Occupy San Diego and remains active in supporting many liberal causes, locally and nationally. In 2006 she was the Democratic candidate for the 49th Congressional District, running against Darrell Issa. In 2016 she was named Women's History Month Local Hero by the Women's Museum of California. She is an avid gardener, relentless feminist, performance poet, proud grandmother and now, this…

Latest posts by Jeeni Criscenzo (see all)

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