The morning was hot and humid
a breeze dragged itself along
a boiling asphalt road,
tired of sifting through discarded junk,
it tried to get lift by releasing lumps of damp air.

A forest of humans were stuck on
a molten asphalt road they couldn’t scream
as humid air had rusted their vocal cords into stillness.

Then giant, green crocodiles came
and tore them off just below knees,
dragged bodies down to the stream,
they were as quiet as trees cut down by a chain saw.

The road looked like a bombed out rice paddy
and on the lazy river
bloodless bodies bobbed up and down
while green eating machines feasted.