from Singapore to Rome: Plutonium

The boys in school they think it’s cool
there’s no one to impress
but the empty bellied African
wants nothing but has less

The little girls wrapped in their curls
their fathers hunt for pay
inside a steamer sunk at night
whos' ghosts have gone away

The TV mother full of mirth
her phone calls far from home
sits hearing oceans rise and fall
from Singapore to Rome

The Cinderella shopping cart
with Barbie dolls and death
rolls down an aisle at midnight speed
without a thoughtful breath

The sidewalks of a city street
where souls play without socks
reflected in a gloomy hue
are wrapped inside a box

The lion and the jungle frog
Before their winter day
Gave their voice to loneliness
With nothing more to say

The philosophers stayed funny
up staged while in their bed
and when they pointed with an eye
Earth's flowers all looked dead

Three cheers for number 94
a long, long time ago
it’s elemental my old friend
The Bomb was meant for show.