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ht May 2018
There's popcorn on the ceiling,
a million bajillion clusters that I've spent days trying to count.
In the 1950's these ceilings exploded into popularity.
And until 1977, homeowners blasted asbestos covered popcorn toward the sky, letting mesothelioma fibers fall back to their floor like it was harmless dust.
I take a deep breath, letting the air settle deep in my chest before letting it back out.
My ceiling is probably not made of asbestos.
It's probably styrofoam or some other cheap, paper-based product.
I take another deep breath.
The EPA banned the use of asbestos in these ceilings.
Apparently, inhaled in large quantities, asbestos causes lung disease, lung scarring, and lung cancer.
Another deep, deep breath.
I continue counting the probably not cancer causing popcorn.
I wonder if I would be able to feel the particles swimming in my lungs like fiber glass–thin, delicate, sharp.
I wonder if it would **** me.
I wonder if my family would file a claim like you see on those old commercials screaming,
"If you or a loved one developed mesothelioma you, yes you, could be entitled to compensation."
Or, something like that.
Breathe.
The air tastes funny.
My ceiling is most likely not made of asbestos.
But, I probably wouldn't care if it was.
I went down a weird internet spiral and now I know a lot about different kinds of ceilings | h.t.
mining ceased overnight
boom days were no more
the conveyor belt stands idle
buildings in disrepair
infrastructure rusting away
asbestos remnants
piled high
the landscape
irreversibly scarred forever
the town who relied
so much on the mine
slowly ebbed in vitality
one by one
the business houses
were closed
houses where the pit workers lived
vacated for good
the company saw lean times
its ore seen to be hazardous
health concerns
were raised by the medical fraternity
the carpet was pulled
from under the company's feet
its share value
fell hard
it then folded up

in an ex-mining town
a legacy remains
a gigantic gaping hole
poorly in need of remediation
for miles around the mine's site
the asbestos filaments
float on the air
and are carried well beyond
by the wind
miner's who ingested
the asbestos
into their lungs
suffer diseases like Mesothelioma
and other forms of cancers
the town's prosperity
whittled away
the people
have no industry
to keep them sustained
into the dust
the boom turned overnight
mining towns
know well this plight

Epilogue

we hear of a resource
being harvested from the earth
yet where the mineral is mined
there is the potential for a dearth
the slogan of mining towns
is that of boom or bust
Mr Buddy Jun 2015
A circle is round.
It has no ends.
Thats how long I've been living with Mesothelioma.
lil jawn piece poem whipped up
Dishes Jul 2015
I dont remember the first time we spoke,
or the last but I remember all the times in between,
I remember my birthday in Pre K when you came to visit me for lunch because my mother couldnt,
I remember when you first taught me the "hambone song" and every easter egg hunt, every ripped open christmas gift, I remember every picture on the walls and the smell of your cologne,
I remember the first time I heard you had cancer,
I didnt know what it meant,
but I cried,
I cried because I also remembered my moms best friend being the first death I wtinessed because of whatever cancer was,
I remembered her skinny body getting thinner and thinner as the cancer weathered her away and I remember my mom crying at the funeral but I was too confused and scared to cry,
now hearing that this disease was inside the only respectable male figure in my life at the time was terrifying,
then I remember learning it was only in your finger and they simply removed it and that was that, I wasnt sure why it didnt work that way with Darlene.
I remember all the jokes you used to make and how everyone had a nickname,
I remember how you made the best breakfast anywhere ever,
I remember your cataract surgery, I remember every hopsital visit I was present for and i remember the pain you went through when your wife of 55 years died of a heart attack, the wife you fed cleaned and clothed because her mental capacity had been severly hindered by annurisms and strokes past, and who you loved till the very end.
I remember that funeral making more sense and the whole death thing being alot easier to grasp,
I cried at that one.
I remember the second time I heard you had cancer,
in the same finger,
and they removed it the same way.
I remember you driving an hour from new orleans just to bring us satsumas and make my mom laugh,
I remember the third time they said you had cancer and it was something worse,
in your lungs,
and it was some monster with a name I was familiar with from tv,
mesothelioma, I remember them saying you had no more than 6 months to live and I was only a freshman then with no respect for authority and no understanding of the importance of appreciating your time with people,
I remember the law suits,
I remember you paying off our house,
and our land note,
and I remember you being so sick at one point you couldnt leave your bed,
there was liquid pooling in your lungs and weighing them down on your spina nd I can only imagine that feels like having glass shoved throgh your back from the inside out,
you layed and bore it for days with the pain medication,
you took so much you couldnt really function, just to avoid the pain, and it want really working..
I remember my aunt walking in on you trying to load your revolver and having to wrestle it from your hands,
my aunt told me in tears that you asked her to let you **** yourself,
I remember you getting better when they put some talc in your lungs to absorb the liquid,
and you got better.
well for a couple months,
and things seemed to be looking up,
but then it came back in full force,
and I guess at this point you deserved the rest,
i remember looking at your body in the casket and thinking
"this is the last time ill see you?  thats not fair"
I remember looking around the room at family and friends I had never met and thinking of all the people you were leaving behind and sobbing because it was not ******* fair,
I remember your mother having to bury you in her 99th year on earth,
I remember your casket being closed and the poems my cousins read but I was too shy to write,
I remember riding in the limo on the way to bury you and how we all joked to keep our mind off it,
and I remember wanting to ***** as my stomach twisted watching your coffin be placed into your grave next to the wife you married as a ahandsome young man with your whole life ahead of you,
I thought in that moment if you knew all the lives youd effect or create,
I just wanted to say thankyou because I never did and now I couldnt ever.
like I said I dont remember the first time or last time we spoke but I remember everything in between and not even death can take those memories from me I will drag them to the bottom of hell with me if I have to.
cliche title but,
whatever fam
this was such a needed write for me
Oppenheimer knelt before death as the destroyer of worlds.
As only Ozymandius stood previously.
He was anointed, and found guilty
The curse to challenge and defy Death's wisdom and mercy...
To usurp "the bringer"
Required only a more certain demise
Several had met the challenge to arrive on the Black Dais,
But death himself remained triumphant
Asbestos, mesothelioma, lawyers,
Each took their place but never challenged Perdition directly
Until one so overtook him
Hell shook Oppenheimer from it's shoulders
The place itself defying it's judges.
Discarding death with him
Oppenheimer - prime acolyte of the light
Who could best even death at being the inevitable and unenviable end
Except life and light herself
Vitae stood guilty in her own judgement
Dismissing the darkness into half-forgotten memory
A shade now unchallenged, an undeniable answer
Her frail form untethered, and expanding into decay.
Vitae cleft her left arm
Forming it into an inkwell
And shaping her right into a quill
She began to write her story again...
"Let there be light"



We must go on
Bear in mind I havent yet seen the movie.

— The End —