Strange Atmosphere

The sun never hated me before.
This heat's a hostile stare against my skin,
my old friend the sun
coppered by smoke to a strange and judging eye.
An atmosphere that makes it hard to breathe--
the East Wind, full of dead leaves--
a catch in the throat.
What hateful thunder, heat-lightning
will strike on my street? Who
will die today?

Available! High-Voltage Lines, Knocking from Inside