Radioactive Love Song

Seen from satellite view, the abandoned Uranium mine on our reservation Is an earth-scar that’s shaped Like a haphazard guitar. The sound hole of this instrument Is the open pit Now filled with water Made turquoise By irradiated waste. I grew up six miles From that deadly place And only a hundred yardsFrom the road traveled By the transport trucks. I inhaled uranium dust— A thousand thousand grains—With every breath. None of us, especially The young, knew How dangerous it was.There’s no mystery here. There’s no need To find motive or alibi. Mr. Death is waitingAt the airport for his Lyft. He’ll eventually arrive At my front door. He’ll say he’s traveled far.He’ll play me a song On his radioactive guitar. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit shermanalexie.substack.com/subscribe