I have a crush on radiation
Because Little Boy hit me
In the Hiroshima of my dreams
And my skin felt the dark heat
And itched and prickled hard.
Imagine the mushroom cloud
Exploding hotels and their bellmen
I broke out in a rash of thorns
And ran from the city, crying
That I would like a blackberry tart
I found a buffet
And heard the cackle of Death
“You’ll have Cancer!” he said
And my cells, like frightened oysters
Shook in their membranes and cried.
Shh, little darlings, I whispered
I am your Sweet Mother
And if we’re to have Cancer
We shall go and live in the woods
And let our feet dangle in streams
