Inane ambition perpetrated by scoundrels injecting evil into the body politic needs to be obliterated. Oppenheimer’s ghost is toast of the town, comes and goes exactly as it pleases. Coastal cliffs crack off, victims of cold rain, although in two months high heat will cause pain. Intolerable solutions that defy evolution are here to stay no matter what we say. It’s as if rogue weasels mate with boll weevils destroying cotton crops while the public wanes. Merwin’s drunk escapes his furnace, stumbles down the street, gets arrested for vagrancy. Longing after Thoth just adds to the loss, and embalming but delays inevitable decay. With nothing left to steal they were still insecure so looked to the sky for some God to deify. We’re strapped to a wheel whirling infinitely fast, undeterred, spurred by the titanic blast.
Thomas Piekarski is a former editor of the California State Poetry Quarterly. His poetry has appeared in such publications as The Journal, Poetry Salzburg, Modern Literature, The Museum of Americana, South African Literary Journal, and Home Planet News. His books of poetry are Ballad of Billy the Kid, Monterey Bay Adventures, Mercurial World, and Aurora California.
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