Haze

There is no need to obfuscate...

Haze settles over the city.
Heat.
The frothy air,
A soup of asphalt, car exhaust, and human sweat,
Churns like the strangled sounds of the traffic
Dodging potholes and traffic cones.

It is not fit for life.
We squeeze ourselves within these confines,
Choosing abodes alien to nature
To gather closer to each other
Studiously ignoring our kindred as we pass
Rabbiting our way to work.

We evolved for different climes.
A grassland species are we,
Those of us who curse the greenery poking through
Concrete heaved by passing seasons
That we ignore in our chuffing cocoons
Cooled by kilowatts extracted from ancient bones burned.

No panther threatens us here
In this magician's hat metropolis,
Though our glands secrete their warnings
As predators prowl each boulevard crossing
With rumbling roars and snarling squeals of wheels
Immune to any clovis point.

Five million human beings,
Thirty million rats,
Roaches unnumbered
Attack each other,
Both like on like and unlike
As cameras catch the action at each traffic light.

by Robert J Meyer

Comments (1)

So wonderfully descriptive that the reader can very nearly smell the exhaust of an idling car, or the cacophony of restless horns. It makes one appreciate the tranquility of the country, and loathe the city. Excellent writing, a true pleasure to read.