Voices on the Wind Voices from Teen Years
Suburbs by Chris Dietz 1. At school we practiced for WW3 duck & cover: hit the deck, arms over heads first you’d see the flash, you’d know gamma rays were slicing your chromosomes like scythes through butter then the shock wave’d hit, peeling your flesh from your bones like wrapping from a present By high school I knew which library books hid pictures of concentration camps or Hiroshima survivors 2. I heard the Civil Defense Conelrad spiel so often I memorized it the test whine froze my testicles to the chair I couldn’t turn away, I couldn’t turn it off it proved that I could be gone in a second it lied that I could do something to protect myself atomic war like an adventure that would bring out the indomitable plus mutant dinosaurs 3. Atom bombs invaded my being atom bombs like a new world soul where everyone shared the secret we were going to blow up or change into giant cockroaches So we did, we blew up broiling, roiling, molten plasmic fire with every experience every landscape, everywhere we turned that test town from TV -- Doom Town every day Doom Town blown to smithereens You’re looking at a house, all American house 2 stories, 3 or 4 bedrooms respectable, white mannequin family then, in a split second, sucked away emptied to bits, disassembled kicked down the drain 4. The neighbors built a bomb shelter at night I remember peeking through a window, spying the man pushing a wheel barrow full of dirt from his basement A boy at school boasted his dad built a bomb shelter and stocked it with a big bottle of sleeping pills When I went over to his house, he wouldn’t let me see it made his little sister show us her titties intsead