For ten days his bad cough

Labours his breathing

Continued stabs deep down

In his lungs

He’s hit by an invisible spear

In a tournament of dark knights

On horses of ignorance.

‘It’s not good your coughing

Try to drink some Icelandic Moss

With honey’

His wife says

‘It helped me a lot’.

He listens for a change and the

Honeyed drink softens his chronic

Throat irritation while he brings

Up lumps and lumps of mucus.

The weekend papers write about

The Dark Cloud over Europe

Fine dust loads from burning

Brown coal polluting the air.

These scandalous industries are

A horrid back-walk for humanity

Or has Europe turned a blind eye

To another genocide?

Lots of talk

No actions on dismal facts

To handle for our politicians?

Micro-particle dust/

Diesel exhausts/

Pollutants recorded to be

Beyond figures damaging to

One’s health/

Diseases of the LUNG/

LUNGS we can’t yet buy and

Change like underpants/

Temperature inversion/

Eastern brown coal plants.

LUNGS.SGNUL

zoltanzelan

ZJG-POetry’19.