Like grains of sand on a beach
I lay down to rest
But I still blow away in the end.

I can't sit or stand now, and
My legs liquify
To the point where I am just water.

Come by round the town and see
What may you find
In the nuclear town that I made.

Here I dissolve looking out
My cracked window
I awaken without any rest.

A grizzly man just sunk a stripe in the corner pocket
Another bought himself company in a glass
One pulls out a cigarette and sticks it between his lips
Soon a spark ignites and a spirit starts to rise

Over head the hum of jets fly by

Across the street sits an old rusty park
Two kids are there, who knows from where
They look happy to be free
A dog squatting just behind a tree

The flying angels left their halo

A block down the street
People gather to watch the lighting of the Christmas tree
Some in the coffee shop
Sipping on sugar and caffeine

The halo starts to whistle

The town is lit up as to say thanks to our lord
Instruments take the stage
Rock around the Christmas tree begins to play
Children yawn and parents laugh as it’s getting late

The whistle shows his face

The festivities stop
Screams of panic fill the night
Kisses and hugs, loved ones holding tight
The smoke in the bar has risen ceiling high

The face opens his mouth and laughs out loud

Silence overtakes the night
Just for a split second before a column of bright
Cauterizes the flesh and melts the bones
Once a joyful town, now is gone

This was the third one tonight

Yes, everything is so clear
NEW-clear, right?

Because like the explosion of anger I get
When I see some poem better than mine
Everything is newly clear.
It is new clear.

Or, not.
See, I've been called careless. Delusional, a couple times.
But do you think I give a **** about my silly rhymes?
Or how about each person that's floated in and out of my life.
Everything is very clear.

I want you to take the word "nuclear"
Splice it and make it something better.
I did "NEW-CLEAR".
I'm angry.
And no amount of heated words will satisfy the mushroom clouds in my mind.

The blast woke that great and terrible monster,
Godzilla, from his slumber
at the bottom
of those darkest depths,
titanic nuclear thing unfurling
at the heart of the abyss.

Reptillian eyes glimmered in the murk.
Stretching out his arms and legs,
beating his tail against the ocean floor,
Godzilla began to swim towards the city.

Godzilla stopped sleeping. The whole world
seemed rife with opportunity,
profits to be had.
And, in the darkness of night,
Godzilla stomped his way towards the city.

Godzilla got a new motorbike.
The engine’s roar soothed him,
for a time.
And, in the darkness of night,
Godzilla stomped his way towards the city.

Godzilla found another woman to use,
his reptilian desire overcoming
whatever remained of his humanity.
And, in the darkness of night,
Godzilla towered over the border of the city.

And, in the darkness of night,
Godzilla’s throat began to glow.
Sizzling blue fire crackled in his mouth,
and then the city was dust and shadows,
a Hiroshima ghost.

a Pulitzer Prize winner
tells us in an interview
in TIME magazine
that a necessary part
of our future energy
must be nuclear

no word
     about the hazards of nuclear waste
     the advantages of alternative sustainable
          and renewable sources of energy
     or about reducing energy consumption

very strange