”‘We Play in Ashtrays’ is my reflection on environmental racism and the quiet violence it inflicts on marginalized communities. Through satirical metaphors and raw imagery, I explore how pollution and industrial greed have suffocated marginalized neighborhoods, turning them into ashtrays—both literal and figurative.
The poem uses the metaphor of smoke and ash to mirror the industrial-planted conditions forced upon Black communities, much like the infiltration of drugs—a deliberate, systemic effort to exploit and destroy. Black people are 75% more likely than white people to live in proximity to polluting power plants. The accompanying art piece is by the inspired harsh reality that marginalized are on the frontlines of environmental justice. This poem and artwork are original pieces a call to confront the destruction and systemic neglect that marginalized communities are forced to endure.
We play in ashtrays over here.
Embers fall like confetti at a funeral.
The kids, they never mind.
Saw their momma fiend for nicotine
And their uncle snort a line.
Saw babies birth crack babies,
Then hit rehab before Pre-K.
Went outside for recess, then relapsed
on the first day. Asked the baby why.
He said, “’Cause we play in ashtrays.”
Clouded skies, dusted to debris, killing us as we breathe.
And the factory fumes are the new locomotives—
An ulterior motive to hook us on the pipe,
Robbing us of our lives, but we’re used to smoking.
No, we used to smoke.
Now the trap house was traded for greenhouse gases.
We dust ash off our caskets,
'Cause the whole hood’s a hookah bar.
We’ve got methane, nitrogen oxide, carbon dioxide—
Industrial flavors, strong enough to savor.
So, breathe at your own risk,
A wasteland of abyss that Nixon hit
With the war on drugs. But as if that wasn’t enough,
The government Newported new answers.
Doped up the air; now Pops got lung cancer.
Doped up the air; now sister got sickle cell,
Sick as hell 'cause she was raised in secondhand smoke.
Corporate America wants us high
On clouded vision,
To be polite to pollutants,
To not mind them
While they make our decisions—
An active genocide.
To walk inside their poison clouds,
Stand helplessly as they trample
Our life expectancy and pretend that the world is
Okay.
When really, we live in ashtrays.
All of us puff-puff-pass, and pass out.
No need for cookouts when
We’ve got barbecue lungs,
Cinder on our tongues, and even though we’ve got
Too much on our plate, we can still taste the
Environmental disservice.
We huff and puff, yet it still feels
Like we’re grasping at straws just to breathe,
And even the big dogs howl with a wheeze.
Now I’m just as crossed as two sticks,
Inhaling air as thick as bricks.
That's not slang—just slang cocaine.
Everything changed when the trap house went
Green.
When they rolled Black bodies into cigarillos,
And our good morning “hello” was inhaling hellfire.
When the first George Bush swore that smoking kush was more criminal
Than the industrial chemicals that we gasp.
Not breathing at all became safer
Than vapor. Our respiratory systems got co-opted by the system,
Making us the victims of environmental injustices.
Corporate America wants us high
On clouded vision,
To be polite to pollutants,
To not mind them
While they make our decisions—
An active genocide.
To walk inside their poison clouds,
Stand helplessly as they trample
Our life expectancy and pretend that the world is
Okay.
When really, we live in ashtrays.
All of us puff-puff-pass, and pass out.
No need for cookouts when
We’ve got barbecue lungs,
Cinder on our tongues, and even though we’ve got
Too much on our plate, we can still taste the
Environmental disservice.
We huff and puff, yet it still feels
Like we’re grasping at straws just to breathe,
And even the big dogs howl with a wheeze.
Now I’m just as crossed as two sticks,
Inhaling air as thick as bricks.
That's not slang—just slang cocaine.
Everything changed when the trap house went
green.
When they rolled Black bodies into cigarillos,
And our good morning “hello” was inhaling hellfire.
When the first George Bush swore that smoking kush was more criminal
Than the industrial chemicals that we gasp.
Not breathing at all became safer
Than vapor. Our respiratory systems got co-opted by the system,
Making us the victims of environmental injustices. Corporate America steps on
Our necks like burnt cigarettes.
They expect us to dance with smoke
silhouettes.
When the cause of death is corporate greed,
Villainizing weed when the real drug dealers and vicious killers
Push the pipe into Black life.
The hood’s a hookah bar.
How far is too far?
When our welfare is threatened by
Chemical warfare in our communities?
When the war on us isn’t just the war on drugs
But the quality of air?
When our days consist of playing in ashtrays?
Embers fall like confetti at a funeral.
But the kids, they never mind.
Saw their momma fiend for nicotine
And their uncle snort a line.
Saw babies birth crack babies,
And hit rehab before Pre-K.
Went outside for recess, then relapsed
On the first day. Asked the baby why.
He said, “’Cause we play in ashtrays.”
Credits:
Created with images by Marko - "playground in fron of power plant" • Tam - "Abandoned Playground Surrounded by Industrial Factories"