Hold my hands ill lead you with your eyes shut through hard rain, falls from the sky in toxic droplets. Does this one contain caesium? Does that contain iodine 151? Does that big fat droplet of rain contain plutonium, will it fall on your skin and years down the line cause a cancer that robs you of your life?
Don’t open your mouths, keep your masks on tight, eyes shut walk forwards until we reach sight of the house.
Ill open my eyes, a willing sacrifice. I would that every radioactive drop fall on me, and none on you.
A clear umbrella. A pair of rubber boots. Strip your clothes off in the hallway and run to the shower, then worry and fret that what comes out of the tap is almost as contaminated.
My acquaintances in other countries fret about their beaches, yet tell me I am overreacting.
I ceased to talk to them at all.
I fill a tiny bottle that used to contain soy sauce with rain water, and send it in a package to my so called friend, with a letter tell him him to put his actions where his words are. Drop it onto your tongue and see what happens. It never got there. It must have been considered potentially dangerous.
Children splash in puddles of water that are collecting in gutters. The television warns you that this is probably not a good idea. They do it any how. No one wants to over react.
They screened the thyroids of hundreds of thousands of children across Japan. Half showed abnormalities. A hundred had full blown thyroid cancer. I am happy with my over reaction.