The McKinley Review Magazine

Bruning, Burying

By: Martin Jee | Posted on: January 14, 2018 

Billowing black clouds come out from ends

of gleaming metal rods, of cars and things.

The nose picks up the scent

and shrivels up.

To think of lives that are now noxious fumes,

Sulfur, like rotten eggs in smell and sight,

with burnt rubber and plastic in dumps,

Combined with sharp chlorine,

And oily seas.

The senses and the brain cry out with pain.

 

Just think- in millions of years we may

Ourselves be giving off the acrid scent

of burning gasoline and CO2

and death

But wait, for yet another scent wafts by the nose.

One equally revolting too,

Fake artificial smells, too sweet, too strong,

Fresh pine leaves that just smell too green, too pure,

Roses that seek to cover all the world

With combined forces of a billion bulbs.

 

The two sides, one refuse and one perfume

Slither across the world in putrid waves.

Burning, Burying was initially published by What Rough Beast