Figure Study: Trinity Los Alamos National Laboratory, 1945 They taught them to care & not to care. The trick of battle lines & national sacrifice. They are building a bomb in what was a boys’ school where students are only echoes among the yucca. The fields grow chainlink & checkpoints. The only music now comes from concertina wire humming with caught garbage. Little Boy is sleeping nannied by armed men & dogs. Surrounded, coaxed by work lamps to grow fatter, yielding its inner casing to hands rough with patriotic fervor. To fill with ghosts yet to be, apprehensive to birth. Men sleep with rifles on boys’ old cots. It’s midnight in the Mess & three men huddle over a childrens’ game. Drop a ball & swipe the jacks. A game because, for now, they can take it all back. Denude The Delaware River everywhere shambling small devotions trespass our flesh we are brook trout in a blighted streamlet or sturgeon fed on tomato husks, plastic fork tines, bitumen runoff streams & creeks pay a tribute of bones to big, hungry rivers fish-killed & fluent in the crush of species what grows will grow to fill the space provided we used to jump from the canal bridge into the eddy & slip into the pulse rutting against the wingdam’s concrete until the papers told us, like old German grandmothers, bent-backed farmers, embattled queens, that the river kills & hidden beneath the flow rebar rusts like the snarl beneath the stranger’s lips our river grew riptide to resist your hands won’t swim here any longer take heed, you leap, spear thigh on the rotten axel of a Chevy, we won’t fish you out what grows here grows ruins like armor plating defiant faces darkened with dye from up-river mills this river has fingers dive to meet their touch, kiss them with your rib cage choke on water, trespasser, choke on we, the storm drain palimpsest rewired with fishhooks we, the chiaroscuro blooming across sunken railroad ties we, the spit of acid rain wetting limestone lovers’ lips taking them clean off