on seeing my first UFO as a semiprecious stone.

 

 

 

There coming for us!  Coming to take what's ours.

Coming with their big round eyes and coordinated, metalic suites;

coming with their garment bags full of suburban heads.

 

Thus the basis of that sci-fi ride, where the narrative works

to give clues to our hiding places. It's the reason why in the sixties

 

heavy, wooden dining tabels with long oaken legs were sold. A

place to huddle the family under. A place to wait

 

until the coast was cear and be painful; the youngest

always in the middle, surrounded by flesh.

 

sit pretty.

The oldest must also be the bravest.

 

 

During the air-raid drill as children, we were instructed

to cross our legs and place our heads on our work benches

 

with our no.2  pencils in our folders. Or to walk in single file,

girls first, without talking to the playground, contrary to

 

the atomic  laden winds.

Or to pretend as Sisyphus,

 

king of Corinth, condemed  to roll

a heavy rock up a hill in Hades,

 

that it won't roll back over us

garnishing our fears...

Reviews

[Tree]

I like this. The title slew me, then resurrected me. And the rest just transported me to that atomic/ never never land that was the sixties... A couple of years ago a friend of mine invited me to the house he'd just purchased because he wanted to show me the bomb shelter that was built on the property. It was like a time capsule; old tools, vitage clothing. Canned goods... This piece encapsulated the fear/the wonder of that time. Especially, in children.