HIROSHIMA
Joel J Rane
What are you to me?
Wasteland, American child, setting of a thousand Sunday movies,
Post-nuclear orphan. Hold you in my arms,
your skin peeling from your bones.
My country is not apologetic. Your country is not apologetic.
There is a map of Hiroshima over my bed. Every day it reminds me:
Countries mean nothing. People mean nothing.
But the name of a city will go into history forever.
Athens. Alexandria. Rome. Pompeii. Calcutta. Chicago. San Francisco. Tokyo. Dresden. Hiroshima. Nagasaki. Managua. Mexico City. Los Angeles. Rise from the ashes, bitter and filled with love.