We're double-bound to home
today. There is the viral reason,
and now smoke
from the Great Western American
Fire of 2020 creams air.
Airborne ash makes
the sun look like the moon.
Birds do their best to eat
out there, but there are
no bugs in that air.
I'm calm. I stare.
I'd like to go into exile.
But where? Nobody
wants to see Americans now,
not even Americans.
hans ostrom 2020
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