It’s curfew near J. Percy Priest
Dam, and the tear gas buttress cracks
Down the convex close to cresting
Due to thermal stress. My eyes kindle
With milk coolant. All I need is regard
To water. The hurt’s polysyllabic, so I call
Them CN and CS gasses for short. The second
Of which forces my eyes closed: solution,
Make me want to breathe
For five minutes, and I’ll open them.
I tell the state I’m going home,
But I forgot I’d need a detour
With all the bridges I knew broken
And reconstructed with brown violence
Tanks through the welts on my torso,
Brown-violet, vice versa. If I sting
A red onion with a knife, pickle it
With household vinegar, or acetic acid,
That would cause tears, and lachrymators
Would’ve steamed the complex, thus
I attempt eating opposite ingredients
With the fork, table, and chair melting.
I’ve yet to find a reusable mask
And now it needs a charcoal filter,
The things thrown at me first organic,
Then synthetic solid, liquid, and fog.