The pig scratchings scatter like scurf
on the bar top.
Going back there is the worst thing,
that profound knowing at quantum level.
You order a weissbeer
as the pump dribbles your poison
remember what your atoms dictate.
Fear launches like ballistic missiles
somewhere on another continent
they’re coming for us.
Your eyes are the blue sky before nuclear war
silent and pleading
until
hot white flash sears retinas
you stare at the cirrus clouds
take the first sip.
