Asbestos / by Brian Kunde

Asbestos
(With Apologies to William Blake)
by Brian Kunde

Fiber, fiber, turning white
In our ceilings, out of sight,
How we wish you wouldn’t be
Brimming with toxicity.

Even though we all admire
How you ward us safe from fire,
If your fibers loosen, death
Enters us in every breath.

Would our building’s builders knew
Of the danger hid in you!
But they weren’t aware, and so
Their precaution brought us woe.

Fiber, fiber, in the wall,
Are you there, or not at all?
Safety testers check to see,
Curing our uncertainty.

If you’re absent, then the status
Of our breathing apparatus
Probably is safe: if not,
Silicosis is our lot.

If you are removed we’ll breathe
Easier for the reprieve:
If you aren’t, we’ll blanch in fear
Every time we enter here.

Fiber, fiber, turning white,
Leave our lungs alone, all right?
Failing such, we must your toll
Face asbestos possible.

* * * * *

Asbestos

from Bibliotec(hnic)a : Poems, Sep. 24, 2013.
An earlier version appeared in
SUL News Notes, v. 2, no. 44, Nov. 5, 1993.

1st web edition posted 5/15/2014.