Oh, how we wished we could build a wall,
when slamming waves lifted fields of parked cars
as if flooding rice with a heavy rain–virile waves
that lifted metal and threw down concrete.
And how we wish with all our hearts to abort
a force so strong it breaks the earth–horrid force
lifting black hearts of plutonium stripped
to ride the back of the dragon’s breath.
This is our work, to drown
the worst thing that could happen,
to pour wave after hopeless wave, to stay
by the core unto death and sickness.
Only for our children do we suffer the break
of dawn, even as their clothes hang to dry in this dismal wind.
And oh, how we wish we could name that wind
that blows the mind clean when we first wake up,
before we remember,
before we know.