Naomi Gades
anthropobscene
ouroboral coal left
elevator eating sinkholes
under its normal school no. 2,
and the old paper mill's black liquor
leeches arsenic, antimony, and lead
swirling the green floater
into its inky singularity.
kelly-spingfield tire's now a maze
of non-residential zoning restrictions
for volatile organic compounds
and manganese,
and hunter douglas flew south for the winter
and never returned, shuttered.
now it's the cabinet maker,
the university,
the prison,
the hospital,
and the hills.
even they, wild, wonderful,
shrink away.
gone are the mountain phlox,
the wood lily, and
heller's blazing star,
a swaying anemone that clung to cliffs.
when we finally wither, too,
let the cabinet makers go last,
the better to bury us.
Naomi Gades is an assistant professor of English at Frostburg State University, where she teaches first-year writing. Her interests include the intersection of modernist poetry and science and college pedagogy. When she has spare time, she enjoys engaging in outdoor activities, playing video games, and composing questionable poetry.