Missile Girl

by Jon Wesick

LIKE Africanized bees
plutonium nuclei jitter and buzz
in an ICBM's warhead.
This global-suicide machine
is madness. But then again,
so too is love.

In spring a young man's mind turns
to Minuteman silos, and a lass
with a cooling tower figure catches his fancy.
O Darling, open your blast-proof doors
and enrich the uranium of my heart. Your eyes
are two reactor pools of Cherenkov blue.
All the cadmium rods in Hanford
couldn't cool my ardor for you.
Just the thought of your velvet touch
makes me launch on warning.

I'm a traditional guy,
no multiple warheads for me,
so let's dance like thermal neutrons
through the heavy water of life.
And if your ring finger should stray
to that big red button and incinerate
Beijing, Moscow, or Kuala Lumpur,
I will forgive you for the price
of one sunny smile.

1 Like
Log in to rate
0 Dislike