Carbon Snowfall

​

By the carbosin plant
the city as a tafelet
where our lives are drawn       
night darning the unpieced
with the overcast
cross-hatched new dawn

And dye shadows in our charcoal lungs
Specific gravity of a phosphorescing sun

By industry’s effluence the
shoreline is inked
Is ink
The soot mars the wash
Copsa Mica’s ash is
spire trees

Turn back Tirnava Mare
unless your steel working waves
Bring a nickled milk
to coat our guts and clean our silk

Veils of tarquin
wash of new foundry brush
No colour for us
What isn’t taken with cad and coke
remains here with us
remains here with us

Charcoal falling as reverse snow
as black as absorption can go

There is a white room
with a white bed
and white sheets
There is a room where our
bodies remain clean
Clean
Clean