by Loren Haas

The smoke screen; breathe it in
Taste the virulent sulfur
Choking, suffocating
The toxins are familiar
Retch on the morose tar
The stench burns at your nostrils
Sticking to your drained skin
This viscid smog is hostile
Your knees shake and buckle
Your heart trembles in your chest
A guttural screech rips
Out from your frail, gasping breast
Black dots dance in your eyes
All else has already drowned
Fall forward; fall empty
To be greeted by the ground