Wednesday, April 05, 2006

Two new poems

From the control room
the bunker the inner recesses
comes a frosty analysis
of a bleak situation

But all is safe
though the concrete walls
sweat crack decay
All is well
though outside the fallout
invisibly contaminates everything
All is calm
except for some rumbling from below,
a vibration the detectors cannot
identify or analyze

From the control room
that faint, fetid, cold electric place
comes a survivor's guilt
and a damned isolation

But all is as planned
down to the most basic of nutritional needs
boxed stores, canned remnants
sun-given energy
All is in place
cots neatly arranged
ready for a long wait
All is ready
except for the rumbling from below
that damned insistent
unaccounted-for shake
that threatens to ruin everything.


Breathing, wheezy cherub
what makes you twitch and punch
out your arms reflexive in sleep?
Collective subconscious nightmares of our race?
Drowning, falling, the reaching, clutching
cold grasp of death and the deep?
Or muscle memory learning paths
to explore?
Tendrils reaching out from the same
source of chaos rendered flesh?

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