Pollution

Tiny droplets of confusion
hang, 
suspended
in a miasma
     of spin,
          of mis-information,
               of control,
of hate.

Vision sleepishly clears,
and shards of truth
reflect portions
of a vivid,
much larger,
picture.

Our species' focus,
to our chagrin,
is no deeper
than our skin.
We have the facility
for intelligent thought,
but spend our times speaking
of what we have bought.

Are we disappointed,
surprised,
at our Darwinian reversal?
If our perception would lift,
only a little,
say, just beyond our nose,
we would see,
much closer now,
          the extinction 
                    down the road.