11 April 2007

After the blast

Back in the day we did things with no net,
we tested each device knowing that the end
could come faster than we could apprehend.
But still we knew that there was magic yet
in every test tube in the complex set
that we had lusted for, we knew each trend,
each step in the long process, and would bend
every rule possible, and not break a sweat.
Now, when we see the crater and the smoke
comes dark and choking from the ravaged ground
we regret nothing. There was a good chance
we could have done the thing, that's no joke;
but now we sit here and cannot make a sound,
instead we cry for those who'll never dance.

1 comment:

Bob said...


I host a poetry podcast which features original music and poems read by the authors... i was hoping you could record this poem for the next show...

Let me know if you can do that: bmarcacci AT gmail DOT com...