Speed and collision
to change atomic numbers
one matter and another
rendered a third.

The spiral of life holds
no quarter for half measures.
Those waiting for guarantees
stand empty-handed, open-mouthed

barely noticing the treasure
beckoning like an existential truth
brutal in its honesty.
Instead they look backward

but there's no one to watch your back.
Give up the security issue,
a failsafe for loss.
I prefer such brutality

over beneficial lies and pencil kisses.
I prefer to read eyes
rather than dismember omissions.
I can't claim I don't know the language.

But my comprehension is garbled,
my childhood tuition offered
through heavy water.
I'd pull the Uranium out,

slide the bars so neatly
only the birds would sense the danger.
A grey heron, perhaps.
(not blue,

blue was for happier days) would
escape, his neck an S,
his wide reach
smudging visions of explosions.

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