BETWEEN FOUR JUNCTIONS

but my blue eyes are dimmed by a shroud of ozone.

Do you know your fate, homo sapiens? All knowing, all seeing, all destroying: omniscient, omnividere, omnidestruere. You are punishable for smoking chimney stacks, high pollution encroaching, sticking to the skin; smoke withers me away; I can no longer see, no longer breathe, no longer live in this blanket of suffocation we suffer in.

You are obliterating, eradicating, impregnating. Chugging tendrils of smoke pumping, stifling, stagnating, congesting; and yet still you carry on creating.

Oh humans, all-seeing, all-knowing sapiens, I’ve been tolerant of your cynicism, your epiphanies of policy and monopoly, but you need to change, see the light through the chink in my clouds, delight in aurora borealis.

I dare you to step closer to the borderline, lean over the precipice as the world disintegrates; watch until your lungs can no longer breathe. Look to me. Beg for forgiveness.

Oh people of the planet, I look down with awakening eyes from the blue face I hide behind.