nuclear war – poems 2 die for

AFTER

after the armageddon
he took some
well-earnef rest

the loss in megatons
of millions
he could live with

his red-
line limit
up there in the billions

and who can say
today when
they brandish
superposition

death is a reality
and reality is death

no finding that
cockroach better
equipped to survive
nuclear
winter, forever cancer

trade whatever for exchange
of consciousness

you talk the stealth
of first strike
they won’t
know we
are coming

and so we both fire
though no one is coming

this beautiful
death technology
such a
shame,
if put to waste

what use being born
with a price
on my head
target on
my back

and Einstein’equation
demanding final vindication

it’s not rocket science
rocket science
is something supreme

all those fantastic
ballistic computations
to generate such
extreme confidence

that separation and
delivery will be clean

consonant with
the exact standards of
human endeavour

the final outcome
leaving
nothing lacking
nothing incomplete,
unfilled
yet to be desired