Before the detonation
(which outside time is not before)
The bomb is like a note of music
or like the string
Unstruck
What is it to be
Complicit in time
la
Only contemplating immo tion
From the crest of the wave
There are faces in the sea
Not the faces of the living
Looking up from before the pleistocene
at our contemplation
The light between us and them
Is particulate
One
One before two
And the deadly flash
And black rain
We see one another
Through time
Make music Of the order
which makes their faces ours
Which defines their features
Burns away all possibility
Sets one note
One key
C become
Death
Every bomb we have imagined
Sings in the air
Every child of our generations
Finds harmony
Time moves the song
And the light
And the fire
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