Blue Grey Skies

if
this
smoky
atmosphere
be just the upper
level of infernos to come
would shooting a tv preacher in a time travel
syringe to revalate the tokyo firebombers and nineteen sixty three teens tooling
main street's gut blow back lingering toxins and greenhouse gases they smeared into the sky
the crux of this conundrum lies not with filth but time
past movers burn their present all
they have – their future
our present
their smoke
our
air