God, it's raining
ash embers and the noxious spiders
are jumping from
pole to rusted pole.

I really blew it up,
gosh golly,
I really blew it up.

I needed to. The venomous
blob was poisoning my mind,
but gosh golly!

The city is gone-- crater left where
church, congregation, lovers once
held hands under the blue moon.

The smoke bomb filled the sky
and it vaporized
all but the brown recluse.

Careful, that venom stings.