NAGASAKI BABY

you look into the camera
like a deer in headlights
your eyes shine bright and lucid
your skin looks as soft as lonely madness
your breasts come together
like strangers making a drug deal
in central park

like this reminder that if you had nothing
you would still have this body
these fiery cheeks
this smile like old film actresses

but behind that glimmer in your eyes
behind your shark white smile
there is something dead
the aftermath
the radiation
from some nuclear explosion
and i don’t know what it was
but i know it is there

and all the guys lining up down the block
think they’re the Hiroshima boy
to your Nagasaki baby

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2014

READ “MAJOR TOM TO GROUND CONTROL”

Author: brice maiurro

Denver poet. Author of Stupid Flowers, out now through Punch Drunk Press.

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