The earth is a Landfill
I tread in asphalt streams amongst the
Great Plains
Overwhelmed by the rushing rapids of
nearby
Gerald R. Ford River
As the albino sky cows grazed peacefully
in the toxic pastures
To stomachs content, releasing
thunderous flatulence
Onto the earth
Red brick revolvers emitted smoke
lingered by death
Imprinted in the buffalo grass at the
battle field
Of Superfund
The natives lived off the land, filled
by its roots
And the pioneers laid waste, landed
there by
By the whispers in the wind
One group’s trash is another’s treasure.
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