Cacophony, extreme hair dryer,
like a mini-flamethrower, spews
forceful air, a migraine’s
soundtrack, droning into ears.
I want to speak truth
to dust particles and men
(and they are always men), who
spray leafy bits into my face, only to
stop briefly when they see me,
shirt over my nose, while
I tell my legs, get away, get away.
Tag: Pollution
Downtown Santiago, Chile
polka-dotted white shirt collar
in the rain, little black bits of
sulphur dioxide and nitrogen
oxide, liquid smog clears the
Andean air, never knew the
mountains were there before
storms of winter, when all
is pure again, I wait for the
micro (bus), slicked hair under
umbrella, leather jacket like
a Russian made man to hustle
on these Spanish speaking streets
in transit to work for finance
power company, electricity and me
daydreaming of Neruda in dirty drips
of sky just asking, why? why?
Daniel W. Polk 