practicing death in the 4th grade

as a child,

in grade school we'd

practice

hiding under our

desks as the sirens

blew,

awaiting the blast

of a hydrogen

bomb.

we'd cover our heads

or lie

on the floor,

awaiting the furnace

of death.

some days though

when

a test was on,

and the siren screamed,

the teachers were

polite and sweet,

they allowed us to run

home

with our books

and lunch boxes

and die in our parents

arms.

a better way to go,

i guess,

if you had

to die in a nuclear

inferno.