A Dream of Wings: An Apocalyptic Satire in Three Parts

“It’s closer to an act of God. The fires
Join up as the wind picks up from the west,
So instead of firestorm, Tokyo suffers
Fire-sweep, in which a tidal wave of fire
Pushes its wall across the city till
It can’t burn anymore. It sparks thermals
That bounce the Boeings up into the air
For thousands of feet, then they plunge, control
Coming back to the pilots only with effort,
As they pull out, turn to sea, and, heading home,
The crews look down where along the fire-front,
It’s white like an arc lamp; behind it’s all red.”