I remember reading about the invisible jets

of carbon monoxide in Lake Nyos

snaking down the valley

to slay people in their sleep

I remember finding poetry there

in a village killed by an invisible monster

I remember thinking this is how everything ends

and imagination is remembrance of a future past

There’s a thicker version of now

everything is aggregating

where we’re all dead and turned to earth

where every surface is circuit boarded over

Where no oxygen exists in the atmosphere

a tree grows from the guts of a machine

Future Jets