A distant spiral galaxy
Once symbolized tranquility.
The stars were awesome, but serene;
Novas were few and far between.
But now the starry firmament
Is known to be more violent.
Pulsars rotate and radiate
At so immoderate a rate,
And nebulae ethereal hide
Such nasty fireworks inside,
One can’t be sanguine any more
About what nature holds in store.
Puny beside a pulsar’s jet,
The Bomb is still a greater threat.
Trajectories of neutron stars
Are comfortably far from ours,
Whereas the Bomb is dangerous
Because it’s pointed right at us.
Even when orbiting in space,
It targets Earth, no other place.
However imprecise its aim
It will destroy us just the same—
Unless we first can find the wit
And courage to dismantle it.

— Chandler Davis

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