My bartering skills are out of touch,

Twenty-First Century purchasing power

revealed in an empty wallet,

save an out of date Blood Donor Card

that I carry to remind of a Time

when I might have been useful.

The papers are full of brinksmanship

of the nuclear button kind

as ships from the other side

forget the day

that Nagasaki fell

in dust and radioactive bites

and I scour the antiques

in search of something I cannot own,

leave in the dust of my memory