August 2021
Author's Note: I celebrate my birthday this month—August 6th, arguably humanity’s date of greatest infamy. Since I have been saddled with this date, I have spent some time exploring various aspects of the Manhattan Project and the use of the atom bomb at Hiroshima. This poem addresses the seductive aspect of the project—the temptation of scientific achievement.
Uranium Isotope 235 Seduces Julius Robert Oppenheimer
I’ve known it was meant to be
since you strode into the lab,
self-assured and gorgeous
with those luminous eyes,
the infinity of the black sky
pooling in the angled planes of your face.
Admit it—together we are divine.
I was named for the first god of the sky,
While you, my dear, were named
for a Roman House born of Jupiter—
deity of sky and thunder.
Thunder. I know you want me.
Birthed bright in a supernova,
I alone can ensure your place
as Lord of all Suns.
Ancient stars spew cosmic protons
which traverse vast space
and one of them
while passing through this world
tweaked an evolutionary thread
to produce your genius.
You are the chosen one
and you know you want me.
Your friends have called me an airhead
and I guess it’s true.
But I also bound mighty depths
for you to explore.
Please, you must have noticed by now
I’m in a constant state of decay
and my biological clock is ticking.
I seek a more stable arrangement.
Okay, so I have a few issues
but I know you find me hot.
My protons and neutrons
pinch so tight together
Come on, little boy, undo those hooks.
(nothing bad will happen)
Let’s rock!
©2021 Sylvia Cavanaugh
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