Fat Man And The Little Boy Poem by Jim Milks

In the space between conscience
thought and not, I had a dream
of Einstein’s nightmare
and Oppenheimer’s scheme
it soon became apparent
that my rest is now disrupted
by an errant Fat Man and
his Little Boy corrupted
as I labor through the night
and try to quiet this fright
in a room all agleam
from the East and
from the West
or so it would seem
The puppeteer pulls the strings
the puppet dances and sings
And sends the Fat Man on a ride
to join the Little Boy by his side
walls of stone so carefully built
crumble before me as if made of silt
and all this shall transcend
leaving only charcoal to defend

4/29/2007