Micro-dust flies in the breeze,
A consistent spring reminder
That if you are to fall in love,
You must look hard to find her.
She will be smart, and don a mask
To prevent malicious thyroid cancer,
But you do not have to google far
To ask well or find the answer.
In case, by now, you didn’t know,
We’ve polluted ourselves to death.
Extinction beckons like a nymph
On a double-dose of meth.
So frolic as dioxide
Expands your mucus membranes.
Duck into a room when your mouth
Explodes its blood and phlegm stains.
It only took four decades
To turn paradise to dust
Or floods. So many never parent
Children, afraid of what may or must
Be the brave and lonely road
That, though scorched, lies ahead.
If only we could turn back greed
To rid this nightmare’s dread.