Natalee Cruz

show me a whole fish
a school of tuna now irradiated

although at home below
tuna cannot duck and cover the way

children of the San Andreas
fault were once taught

hold on to the legs
of desks

hold tight may the shelter not shimmy away
when the earth starts to tremble

parts of the ocean unexplored by human touch
besides our destructive dust

the atomic bomb plummeting into the depths
a sharp poke leaves a bruise

they died because their houses were not clean
they don’t know what we know

we duck and cover
we live like turtles

walk and take care
not to expose our necks to predators

when the alarm sounds
if the alarm sounds

we will run not walk to our new home
a new age

illuminated droplets
falling until finally afloat

merging into a singular home
it has always been safe at home

what is there to say
about Christmas lights

twinkling like scales
under the afternoon sun?