The agreement takes place
between the host—a location—
and a business that leaves

mercury and lead, perhaps,
the agreement preceding
the construction

of a factory. A set sum
and a guess of what will
happen when the plant opens

are accepted. One host,
my old home, agreed
to “no visible plumes”

but got three. On a clear day—
or not—the business sees
profits. The host cannot see

beyond, for most, want.
The plant makes electricity
from gas. Having no energy

to fight, I left. Running on
fumes means being outraged
always. I stopped

where magnolia blooms.
Myrtle blossoms like lilac—
or a prim translation

of bobbing branches,
too thin and wild, warning
of the approaching storm.