Mother of All Bombs

Three Worlds One Vision

I am Mother.
Created by Father.
A complex scientific birthing process, they say.
I weighed over twenty-one thousand pounds at birth.
Father spared no expense;
he happily paid the $314 million.

I carried you for nine months
in the womb, my child.
I almost lost you, you know.
They closed the clinic
where I used to get healthcare.

I am Mother.
Created by Father.
My over-pressure waves obliterate
everything & everyone within a one-mile radius.
Look at me with awe & trepidation.
I am Death.

Where is Father?
I am cold & hungry, Mother.
He abandoned us, my child—
to pursue his dreams
of dominating the world.

I am Mother.
Created by Father.
He dropped me from the sky
to plummet to the earth.
My body detonated into gazillion atoms.
My soul became a black hole.

I am beautiful.
I am strong.
I am invincible.
Created in Father’s image.
I…

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