“Those whom the gods would destroy, they first make mad.” – Greek Proverb
While the Enola Gay circled overhead, I gained weight,
and obsessed over coverage of its flight: Would we be spared,
or perish? What orders have been given, and who or
what will the pilot obey? We paid for the plane and
its cargo; we educated their designers; we elected those
that control our fate: even after the plane safely lands, the
bomb will remain. Yet life will go on. I’ll unclench my jaw
to find my teeth in need of repair. I’ve neglected so much,
watching the spectacle above. I used to read for pleasure!
The yard is a tangle of weeds; my fridge is full of junk food.
At last I can ride my bike in peace, though the Enola’s
engine idles and I can’t shake the desire for revenge.
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