Peace and War at Niagara or the Pentagon


falling thunder. striving to carve rock

yet unable

pulling downward but the rising mist

free to pull us too

the tug of earth and sky

flesh and soul of a planet at war

so ever more gently than the creature that subdues it

claiming two gases in bondage

essense of creation

released by fire

or falling and rising



or the terror of hydrogen alone

itself

unleashed

pushed inside itself to its freedom

crushed by the weight of uranium

enriched not by transcendent thought

but flung past all other dendritus

to purity

as we too were circling

(faster than escape velocity should we leave?)

would we be enriched as we abandoned

our home of water and rock

to purity

or haunted by falls mist memory

of mushroom clouds?

stuck in a centrifuge of religion

God the desert sun

flinging us upright

the nightmare an unwelcome

dream turned to glass

the mirror to the soul

Zoroaster's Twins


By Phil Specht