With a forever filthy dust mask crammed to my face
I remember a quote from a T. S. Eliot poem ,The Hollow Men ;
This is the way the world ends,,, Not with a bang but a whimper. 
I turn around and open "my" door to walk into the "hall way" of 
deep canyons made up of buildings, all over 50 stories tall.

a desert dry perpetual storm,  flows like a river 30 stories above me
whirling orange as it pours down the decayed garbadge of the last century 
all the world is an hour glass with sand replaced with choking dust & rust

a few people join me ,dodging the mess of carts, boxes , and dirt, 
streets turned to foot paths by the discards of our grand parents

i go toward an abandoned less congested part of the city
looking up an old smoke stack forces the canyons & clouds away 
if only a little, to enter it i start a mile away

i have a hard time remebering what pocket! ,, 
where is that damn!! oh there it is ! .. the key!  

i make sure no one sees me as i slide in , the door 
i pull down the devider cloth , the room is packed high 
with the worlds soot crawling up the walls  

i shovel the acumilated dietrus into a bag
i turn on the tap & turn the valve to shift the water to the overheads 
the sprinlklers wet the air, the mud drops for a while , now it IS air 
i turn the valve back so i can clean & hang the cloth to hold out the dust
in this dust equivelent to a decompression chamber the tap is turned off,
i remove some filters as i enter the next space to repeat the process again

right after the building was abandoned the clean path was established as sacred 
repeated halls , joined by side facing doors its broken path made less dirt flow 
i remove my last layer , the suit, it comes off & is hung , next to  15 others , 
i see a mirror & my eyes, mouth & nose are almost matt white the rest is red brown , 

after the last hall in the clean path ienter the next stage ,,heaven

I flip the valve, looking down at a year in hell bleeding away as i bath.

i am as clean as i can be & i begin to walk the clean path 
at each doorway i feel more , of my smile comming back.
at the last hall The mirror it shows only a slight change in me,

I open the last door to the fire room, 15 others are waiting for me , 
white, black, or other , all have pale mouths & this brown stained skin, 
one holds a spring pole, another has the stand, a third has a mirror 
just like me, all carry a piece of white cloth just big enough to hide
but i bring a lens and the knowledge to finish this duty  

i open the furnace door, walk in with the pole and lens 
i look up and see a terrible depth and i bright spot at its center 
the lens is held on the end of the pole by a set of wires 
they will hold it till its time to let go of the pole

as i push it up the chimney i extend the pole ,& then  
i hear the click, twist and remove the pole 
he puts the stand on the furnace floor 
the other placees the mirror on the stand

we all work to connect the 16 pices of cloth to make on large one 
then it is hung on the wall opposite the furnace door

as we step back to eather side of the furnace door 
it hanges and we see our past move accross it , slowly

the screen shows a view through a tall smoke stack, a lens, and a mirror , the clear sky with white clouds

I remember that old quote and think 
the world dies , Not with a whimper 
but a choking sky