– Love Beneath the Mushroom Cloud –

Amidst the not quite golden brown
fields
full of wheat
They stand, basking in
Love beneath the mushroom cloud

Warming with not quite golden tan
blistered
lips of heat
clasped hands, asking when
Stardust doth sift through the shroud

Most days ready to run at the first sign of hope,
both stay, requited today, hoping for a sign

Warring teeth not white, mildewed frown
grass
crowds of blades
They walk, seeking now
their blast wave kissed with picket fence

Marring seething left, right, up, down
bloodied
roads in shades
They sulk, breaking brow
At the Majesties of Ash expense

Here is where they make their home anew
together, under mushroom cloud and caustic shrine

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