HIM

by Joan McNerney

His insignificant fingers
search coded panels
buttons cool smooth
attached to glowing screens.

But isn't that power
general motors
general electric
or maybe major, major holocaust?

So admirable
the admiral
can sweep our planet away
in less than half an hour.

Another fact to live with
we can all blow up
in flames.
At any instant
galleries of murdered faces.

All of us born with this
strange dilemma.
Why do anything
when everything is wrong?
Our hearts caged in fear.

The eyes of the dead
are glassy and surprised
staring with open mouths.

Yes and always there is pain
of what could possibly remain.
Some slabs of concrete.
All we build are buildings.