Weird Scenes From The Chemical Mines . . .

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Or should it be called weird seeings from a chemical mind ? Whatever. I had a dream. I dreamed I was in an abandoned factory. A factory where obviously many horrible things had happened. The traces were everywhere. Slowly corroding away in the padlocked and chained stillness of the nightmares no one wants to know of. The sins of our past. Passing into the future. The pasture. Chemicals seeping into groundwater, then into the river. Tell me it isn't so, please. Time to wake up now. Time to resume pretending that none of this was real.
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Who would have guessed an Ammonia Scrubber sign could have turned into a work of post chemical modern art ?
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Our days are numbered . . .
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Even the ghosts that haunt the place need something to read.
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The pits that lie below . . . honest, you don't want to know.
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Caution, there is even a drain for the press, which is open to dilute.
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Exit ? Did someone say Exit ? I fear there is no exit from certain nightmares.

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