Ash Winter

Ever since I learned how to want, I have vomit black smoke
It pours from my mouth and out my skin, and it turns my teeth to tar
It is choking my home and earth
I'm in love with the taste
The air is no longer as comforting without a hint of carbon
My smoke has filled every crevice
It is the grass, and the rivers, and the bricks with which we build

I was listening to the news today
A man died of carbon monoxide poisoning
He was 43 and had two cars and a house built on a lake - muddy, and shallow
The last taste in his mouth was of iron
First responders found his body 86 hours later
Bloated and floating in the water
But the electric company refused
To take responsibility for his death and repossessed the remains of his home

There is no life without smoke
It is desire, and right, and filth
We breathe impurity with prejudice

Ever since we learned how to want, we have vomit black smoke
Our walls are stained; wood scorched