Ellensberg Omen

You can’t but see the haze
Lung irritating
Trees on horizon hills
Lay cloaked, beyond still

A leak below
Spitting sulphur
Into a crystal sky
To turn smokey quartz

What was once beautiful
Is now still in a different form
Now torn the ground
And make leak the unfound

All the birds call
For any port in this storm
Tracking the air
Like veins in a hand

Reaching with their wings
Momentarily
Through the choking
Air caked with grime

Before the world returns
To a façade of
Smokey quartz
And no sanctuary in ports

Just a burn and purge
Just the cleansing smoke
Snuffing a citrine
Starless sky to silence

Off in the distance
There stirs nothing
For the weak find their
End in an air of quartz

Lungs

Maybe this is the last one

Collapsed, inflamed,
Choked, drowned

So many times my
Vents have been
Mixed with malady

Courted by infection

Keep breathing, I’m told
Deep breaths, they say
In… and out through the nose

Not as easy when you’re
Not getting enough air

When they’re sunk
Or punctured

How many times have
My lungs been injured?

Maybe this time will
Finally
Be the
Last one…

Particulate

Particulate

Particulates of smoke
Tetrahedron points
Floating as if in
Zero gravity

Flushing through lungs
Worming through bronchi
Grey, brown, red shards
Of microcosmic triangles

Pinpricks of a universe
Points of light glittering
In smog of breath swirling
Inhaling and taking to berth

Tubes of red and blue lacing
Through a body
Carrying triangular nodes
Of yellow gas