remembering the B-52

I have spent most
of this life watching
the shimmering axis ripple
through the core of mushroom clouds
old WWII surplus vaporized with
cut out suburbs of
mannequin mothers worrying
over evening meals
duck & cover babies emerging as
duck & cover boomers
calling up the shimmering axis on
cell phones while
negotiating 12 hour
rush hour days
believing the same insanities
their fathers packed for lunch &
carried home in six-packs 

I have anticipated the resurrection &
considered its flaws the
limp & vacant stare there
are problems with this plan there
is eternity to ponder & our
television attention spans our
Ritalin soaked anatomies spread
across the surface of our
placid rain soaked cities watching
the distance decay to half melted evening
crawling toward surrender &
night the tender protein of humanity coiling round
an electric conduit of fear I

remember the B-52
children like gentle inquisitors
moonfaced staring up at
vapour trails guessing
at the mercury pinprick I
remember its shadow
made so diffuse by altitude it
merely kissed this cheek with a
dry hint of malevolence I
blinked raw at the sun &
the summer vacation blue
of the August sky


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