antimony in annandale

The city has no interest in my breathing,
it contaminates my lungs with anti-air,
infuses them with vacuum.

Yet, should I leave this wretchedness,
to find a place where burnt-out cars
are overgrown with vines,
where the breeze
blows allergens
and dust,
and determined insects
seek
comfort in my flesh,
my heart would be
tormented.

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