Poem Set: Published in The Mayo Review (Texas A&M’s Literary Journal)
B-6 on an Atomic Jukebox
A man presses “B-6” and the Cheez–It® crackers
stick in the goddamned machine.
Just stuck there to a 12 gauge SST spiral
waiting to fall, always, waiting to plunge down.
Waiting to be consumed.
A child shouts “B-6” and another shouts,
“You sunk my battleship!” and the first replies,
“My dad was on a battleship when the Clemente Island
“I’m sorry.” The boys say a six second prayer.
The first calls another shot.
Just hours after tasting his wife’s lips for the last time,
the Chief of National Defense receives the directive
from the Commander-in-Chief to send fifty megatonnage
to the glowing green B-6 grid on a modest screen,
and nickel plated keys are simultaneously turned.
Twenty-five megatons had previously
been agreed upon, but humanity played second violin
in the key of B, accompanying a choir
of crickets, silencing. Scores of people
never return home.
Some refuse to.
Little Sketches of Nautilus Beasts on Atlas Maps
A sea monster does not hold certain its own existence
nor does the soul of one so callused know of a God
but when he weekly enters into a temple
and a man garbed in black pleas for money
the uneasiness of the attender is left to question why
a God so perfect
would need so much
and so he returns home
not knowing if the sea exists
nor the deepest and most callused monster