Local Charm

Miles and miles of twisted trash,
railroad tracks in all directions.
Whining 'dozers climb like ants
in holes they can't get out of.
Above the filth so wide and deep
pyrites spire before the sun.
Where water taps as clear as glass
before it gets to here.
Is it hot enough for ya, yet?
Ulcered fishes, stunted plants,
landscapes that defy description.
Tetrapods by the road
you won't find in the zoo.
Wafting mists of caustic acids
searing lungs and eyes exposed.
Caked in mud, worn like skin,
there's no place quite like home.
Is it hot enough for ya, yet?
every moment less and less.
A forest where it never rains,
rain you won't get out of.
Make the move, pay the price,
fix the mess at any cost
or, turn the blue ball rocky brown,
the planet into dust.
Is it hot enough for ya, yet?