dystopian nonfiction antihero

earth’s air fattens feverishly.

why do we still walk?

how can we lay?

it bleeds in fading colors.

its children are the stones

for stepping upon.

the air fattens and vomits

and putrid whisper-screams

linger in the silence after.

i don’t believe in you, but dead

weight is worse on this planet

than my dusty ideology.