The Day They Destroyed a Carboard Family
(Nevada Test Site 1951)
The house is ply-struts
not even particleboard.
Mom is cardboard,
dad and my little sister are manikins,
Older brother is a painted figure
of a younger brother’s imagination.
Just regular folks.
The dog is a real dog
chained to a bolted stake.
Mother is at the sink washing cherries, naturally,
Father is at the kitchen table
smoking his pipe, naturally.
Little sister is playing with dolls on the floor
melting in the heat.
Big brother is starting to singe at the corners.
The dog is listlessly sleeping.
A clock on the mantle is clacking loudly,
not telling the time but counting down.
Goggles on now please.
This is not a drill.
A blinding light – deaths afterglow
I miss the obliterated already.
A success,
but
did they really sacrifice a live dog
to see if an A-bomb could kill it?
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