by Joschua Beres
the bomb over Hiroshima
took forty-five seconds to fall
until: flash. bang. pop.
maybe that helps you realize
the importance of forty-five seconds
because even if that bomb fell
for forty-five years, it wouldn’t be
but in one millionth of a second.
modern American science
can birth a second sun just long enough
to prove that popcorn never lasts past the previews.
lovers clothes never come off fast enough.
kites will never take you to the moon.
and doctors will always say its Cancer.
we should live like the atomic bomb
shaking our souls into thunder clouds
singing electric hallelujah praises.
because in the cosmic end
all we really have
are those forty-five seconds.
This poem previously appeared in The Kitchen Poet.