a liquor store attendant contemplates the chicken and the egg

i inhale dirt and exhale dust

and the dirt is a desperate fog

smothering the masses in transit

between crumbling homes and stumbling heaven

and the dust is the remains of my lungs

once pink now coal from mining generations

of central kentucky and burning them to stay warm

and what is this to do with poultry?

well what came first - the dirt or the dust?