Pollution

3 x 1 2 3 4 5

"Excuse me," barked Tyler. "Is that your crisp packet?"

"Oh, it's not just mine," said the boy. "It's everybody's."

R.P. Tyler drew himself up to his full height. "Young man,' he said, "how would you feel if I came over to your house and dropped litter everywhere?"

Pollution smiled, wistfully. 'Very, very pleased,' he breathed.

"Oh, that would be wonderful."

Beneath his bike an oil slick puddled a rainbow on the wet road.

A toxic chypre: radioactive green musk, davana, and oozing white amber.