Wine in Europe was never the same after the explosion,
can be dated by its radioactivity, levels of caesium-137.
The northern radiation plume swept up into Scandinavia,
the southern dusted the berry-fields of France.
It’s said that you can taste the difference, can feel
the ever-nearing fallout of your own body with each sip.
American wine was sold in Sweden for the first time in 1987.
Economics is the science of unintended consequences.
The city of Pripyat is now a restored Eden,
without any god to watch over it.
The confinement zone turned refuge has saved species
from extinction, all of their skins pulsing beneath the surface.
Somewhere in Norway, someone is watching
the Northern Lights, a glass of Yakima Valley Merlot in hand.
Somewhere in Pripyat, a spider is weaving an irregular web,
a tree is growing its 38th ring,
an enormous wolf is howling its reservoir song.
Mandy Seiner (she/they) is a writer, educator, and dill pickle connoisseur living in Brooklyn, New York. Her work has been published in underblong, perhappened mag, Stone of Madness Press, and elsewhere, and she is co-editor-in-chief of DEAR Poetry Journal. Talk to her about condiments, your favorite documentaries, and the use of pink peppercorn in unisex fragrances.