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AND LITTLE BOY BEGAT FAT MAN

Michael S. Morris

“I became death
the shatterer of worlds.”
Oppenheimer was taking bets
laying odds that the atmosphere
would ignite, combust endlessly
in a geometric afterbirth His pearls,
Little Boy and Fat Man, laid before swine. And they,
Prometheus and Beelzebub, dancing with Pandora and
Icarus, secretly musing between them - (All life
on earth!/Curiosity Was High!) flying into the sun
Collecting,of course, would take place in the boilingsea
which would create a melting pot of Gasses!A Paradox!
An odd physicist LafferPerhaps the glowing
God legacy of man would be unbiodegradable, soulless
inorganic...“One word, Benjamin, my boy –
Plastic!...”
And that, joked the Mephistopheles
of this brood, was to Hiroshima – as death is
(to Nagasaki) – inevitable as taxes –
They reasonably argued against any forewarning
They cheered wildly when told of the never before
dreamed of destruction they brought to bear
on this defeated, desperate, savage kamikaze
Many a boy spared routing the flock of Samurai
to whom Christ was but a paper Tiger, the descendant
of the sun, their divine emperor, who understood the Jew as
self desire the chosen disease of the Jew. Now we’ll see –
the true revelation comeAnd Little Boy begat Fat Man
and Oppenheimer lost a few dollars – of sleep,
to conscience – One said Kaddish, lighting candles,
canting prayers for those Chosen/Damned To a Man
they knew two volatile remnants pulsed in the tides
blood-echoTwo indelible ghosts haunting beyond time,
one, history is a mask put upon both vanquished and
victor, an ill fit burnt through by the other: one quarter million human
beings...the sacred, innocent children, the waiting women
the old, the infirm, not dissident villains but Cities
absent armies...

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