Poetry Archives

White glow melts life
freezes shadow, twisted bottle
the birth of the transistor
and then.
Of doom wide open
flash bang flash bang
dead ballet in radium
stuck to the walls
that disintegrate at the speed of light.
Hiroshima is mother and push-button
skeletons do the rattle dance.
Together, we are the industry of poison light.
Hiroshima, apotheosis of weapon & machine,
your centenary will shine a sly beacon
in a forest museum where the extinct
are preserved and money spurts.
TV spawns a billion little Hitlers:
Radiation Plus, this Island Earth.
A petrified breeze from the virtual trees
whispers Hiroshima.