In the Wake of PFAS

A brilliant diffusion of an ideal mixture
of PFAS blankets the world
in atmospheric opalescence.

All causality (as advertised)
stems from a single point
of human spirit. The TV static

is the echo of the big bang.
That gives me comfort.
We live and die in glacial uniformity.

It’s a lot drier now.
Look outside,
fields ignite in silence,
fire spreading beneath
our dry heaving sky.

Our radio signals asking for help
will outlive us. That gives me comfort.
We meditate

within quasistatic violence,
unaware of the danger in sharing air
with the plastic industry.

Chemical volatilities
and weapon capabilities
collide like symphonies
across our cities.

Some people think aliens will shut off
our nukes before we can use them.
That gives me comfort.

Wisdom is heartbreak at modernity’s
arrival. Wisdom is loathing survival
on a planet we're choking.