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Atomic Bomb Viewing Party
The host feels conflicted;
what favors should he buy?
Fallout foil streamers?
Irradiated wine?
Gauge a viewing distance
per audience and clime;
send out invitations
concluded with a rhyme:
Hey Atomic City!
You're ruinous, sublime!
Don your dark sunglasses
and sit where you're assigned!
Says my glowing wristwatch:
our moment's drawing nigh!
Train your eyes to distance,
for there the land shall die!
Basso pulses ringing;
a flash of pallid light.
Seed of smoke left churning,
and blooming there in flight.
Hark, the clouded mushroom!
Its roots into the sky!
While luminescent spores
dip down into the dry.
Oh, what a spectacle!
Such potency refined!
News reels, containment fields;
a feast for hungry minds!
Ignore concerns of doom;
just breathe the heat and sigh!
For when this star is loosed,
it falls in its due time.
