In the nights following the earthquake at Fukushima, anger spread like isotopes onto those who lied, those who ran and those who wouldn’t stop screaming. Yumiko was mad at her American boss for flying home with his children. Fumiko was mad at her sister for living in America. Some tried to finger the gods for punishing evil thoughts, for meting out lessons on mortality, as if by breaking into the atom people had tried to steal their thunder. Everyone was angry at someone or something, for betrayal or greed, indecision or pride, complacency or stupidity, but they were Japanese and kept it to short quiet bursts:

Moon over Japan
The sea has broken your light
All the dead are lost

Bio: Jack Cooper