Contrails

Look what we have done to the sky

crossing her with stitches

of smoke

and sputum

smoking and spitting and

splitting atoms

and eves

burning leaves

carcinogen

our leftover kith and kin

high

in a molten sky

spitting and shittin in her eye

when she weeps

we wonder why

and give her drugs for her depression

choking her with our hands and our feet and our dung

incinerated

as if we dont like her

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