Hiroshima: August 1985
No way to deal with it, no way at all.
We did not have to come, and yet we came.
The things we saw were all the very same As we expected. We had seen them all: The fabric pattern printed on the skin, The shadow of a body on a wall.
What wrapped our bodies round was much too thin.
Voyeurs, but sensitive not to display Unseemly horror; yet sensing that we felt Horror was here, and everywhere was shown. We knew the arguments the other way If they had had the thing, it would have blown Some other city, one of ours, away.
Was it guilt, shame, fear, nausea that we smelt?
Self-accusations, bewilderment, disgust: Those dripping rags of flesh, that faceless head, The sky wiped black, the air crammed black with dust, City of ghosts, museum of the dead.
No way to deal with it, no way at all.
We did not have to come, and yet we came.
The things we saw were all the very same As we expected. We had seen them all.
Anthony Thwaite
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