no offence, a gust of wind; unjust, but that’s the story
an unconcealed commitment
(much less attractive prospect)
to smile and behave as one should
seeking permanent promotion
sign quaking, faith shaken
grit underfoot don’t feel good
birds, though, still are flying
and don’t they symbolize
you’re just a bundle of particulate
like any greasy cloud
emerging from a smokestack
a mere burst of – what’d they say?
ashes to ashes?