swallowing all the real,
Reaching forward into their sleek, polished oblivion.
The unnatural expanding outwards,
Expelling steaming tar /yellow florescence
from its churning anis.
on their chemical lawns
with the power of Pine sol
so close to nature,
you can almost taste it
burning your eyes, nose and tongue.
“Smoky won’t like it,
he hates everything!”