Tuesday, March 8, 2016

The Past Is The Past Is The



A time almost forgotten:
pinup ladies with hair
long in meticulous
fashion.

Sailors discharged
from Hawaii or NY
drinking Jack in
the streets.

Suited men minding
all businesses safely
until the boys came
home to stay.

FDR was on the radio.

Truman danced at Yalta.

Marshall
reconstructing
destruction
with a plan.

I look back and am thankful that we've survived this long
eating apple pie from mom, thinking about the bomb
hydrogen accelerated to terminal velocity
releasing neutrons, neutrinos, tachyons
nightmares, threats, mass-murder,
negative image shadows
burned onto the
pavement...

Burned into our minds
every night as the newcasters
prognosticate imminent attacks
from those other people across the sea
who are more afraid of the cowboys with bombs
and guns and apple pies and mothers and butter sallaries
and bombs and cars and television and Hollywood and Elvis

and bombs

across the sea.

We almost forgot.

But we're the only ones,
this time.


4 comments:

Ultra Toast Mosha God said...

Great. I love how the layout of lines 19 - 33 feel like a bomb falling then a mushroom cloud rising.

eric1313 said...

Cool! It also was like a maw open in waiting for the world to fall in.

But as with the explosive motif you mentioned, it tappered off, leaving nothing but a feeling, and one of quiet expanse.

Always interesting what the subconscious digs up.

Charles Gramlich said...

Gotta love a little bit of time travel

eric1313 said...

I did! Sitting with a laptop at a bar does things to my writing...