Crawl out of your fallout shelter into dawn - a rusted pipe is a perfect home
The night’s a meltdown, drips of grey-blue on pale lemon light over a landscape flat as rice-paper
Wish for an artist, a calligraphy pen dripping ink into the blank, a splatter made clean by idea – made beautiful by intention
When the sky is up, hide.
When the day dissolves into sunset and the pixels are dead, the L.E.D. lights are up, then you come out:
Around the rubble, not over it
Food is bad until proven good – throw a scrap to the ranges and see if another one dies.
Go back as soon as possible.
Silence will not protect you, and quiet doesn’t mean safe.
Keep a blanket handy and cover your feet.
Before the scavenger bands wake, crawl away from the green tattered blanket and out of the old sewage pipe, to catch a glimpse of a nuclear sunrise.
Looking is the only way you’ll stay sane