pyrocumulonimbus (pyroCb) procrastination

Panic...today I put off tomorrow. Tomorrow never got around to it. Forward, six words of blameworthy delay. 

You can not water it down, the earth needs fire. Fire discovered mankind darkening the skies over their cities,

kindly sucking up all the oxygen, inhaling deeply with the lungs of the planet past the cavernous molten rock

blowing by gaseous metals; changing time, changing the pressure in the mantle, the earth shook. Shook, 

the chosen one of global crisis, razed the brachia two hands across three lobes left questioning. Rage

across the rainforest blooming in fire clouds producing pyrocumulonimbus (pyroCb) storms out of this universe.

Grasses, shrubs, conifers carried to the atmosphere billow in clouds that linger in the ethereal setting sun  

of otherworldly yellows and oranges. Oranges and yellows turn burnt and run in flesh-colored ashes down the spine

blotting out the sun and consuming the last vestiges of this Anthropocene. Consumption coughs, earth heaves

in parasitic deforestation and mining in the season of Quemada. Lightning strikes tomorrows of sulfuric brimstones and fire in six words. Tomorrow never got around to it. Panic...today I put off tomorrow. Lungs of the earth are ablaze! 

Feathery hope, come run with me...