I stood in the middle of the street, too drunk

while cars swerved around me, thinking 

about what  J. Robert Oppenhiemer had said

after he created the nuclear bomb

and smoke was curling downward

around the edges of one man’s idea

 

I realized I had no cell service

and there were no safe distances 

for one to observe death

I saw the drawings of a phoenix

in waves of intense heat 

that were lifted into the stratosphere

 

But I, too, had assembled the last piece

of an explosive chain reaction

and I held this pose for as long as I could

and closed my eyes to assume this multi-armed form

only to be remade

I suppose a countdown to zero takes place

My hair was unrestrained, my body was youthful

and it took away that fear of dying 

 

An explosion blew my eardrums 

and I recognized the presence

that had called me to surrender 

and knocked me down from both sides