Now That The Bomb

Now that the Bomb has been out 

          for decades, have we escaped dread?

On some level, I’m always terrified.
          I try transmuting cold fear

into healthy motivation, being
          constructive with my blues,

planting phrases like trees onto paper
          and hoping they survive time,

and yet the beast always returns,
          the bad dream is on a looped reel–

or now that celluloid is dead, is it instead
          a corrupt video without a pause button?

This poem borrows a lyric from Radiohead’s “Dollars & Cents.”

270 thoughts on “Now That The Bomb

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