Lines 1–5

In the title "Smart and Final Iris," Tate cleverly nods to a widespread warehouse grocery chain known as Smart & Final, a corporate behemoth boasting over 214 branches across California, Arizona, Nevada, Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Florida, and Mexico. This intriguing name pays homage to the founders, Jim Smart and Hildane Final, while "Iris" represents their private label established in 1895. Following a strategic acquisition of their main rival, Haas, Baruch, and Co., in 1953, the brand was reborn as Smart & Final Iris Co. The enigmatic title serves as a cryptic riddle for readers, inviting them to unravel its connection to the poem. Such an approach resonates with the poem's exploration of code names and their deeper meanings.

Meanwhile, the Pentagon, an iconic five-sided edifice in Arlington County, Virginia, serves as the nerve center for the United States Department of Defense and all branches of the military—Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines. Its sheer size ranks it among the globe's largest office buildings, yet in conversation, "Pentagon" often personifies the U.S. military at large.

The poem's opening line dives into the Pentagon's penchant for cloaking military operations in code names. During the Cold War era of the 1950s and 1960s, for instance, the Airborne Alert Program—which kept nuclear-armed bombers in perpetual flight to thwart a Soviet threat—was shrouded under titles like "Head Start," "Round Robin," and "Chrome Dome." Tate's satire imagines the Pentagon's cryptic lexicon for an apocalyptic scenario should nuclear strategies unravel. The irony lies in the stark contrast to a euphoric paradise, as "rural" suggests that urban centers, likely first targets, would face devastation. By repeating and clarifying "rural paradise," Tate masterfully delays the punchline, showcasing his comedic finesse.

Lines 6–8

In this verse, Tate lambasts military bureaucracy's cold calculus of war via code names for catastrophic events. The phrase "a trip on the wayward bus" evokes a whimsical journey akin to the free-spirited Volkswagen bus culture of the 1960s, starkly contrasting the grim reality beneath the euphemistic veneer.

Lines 9–12

Here, the imagery of a "future of mutants" emerging from nuclear fallout takes center stage. The bizarre code "bridal parties collide" paints a vision of matrimonial mayhem, mingling comedy and chaos. This phrase alludes to the mutations seen in the offspring of Hiroshima and Nagasaki survivors, who suffered radiation-induced deformities. It also summons images of monsters and undead creatures made famous by films like Dawn of the Dead and Night of the Living Dead. Tate wields humor in the following stanza, linking beatniks—counterculture artists of the hungry 1950s—to beatniks, a term often used pejoratively for those who rejected societal norms in pursuit of enlightenment through jazz, drugs, and Eastern mysticism. They paved the way for the 1960s and 1970s hippies, sharing a similar ethos. Thus, a "plague" of beatniks becomes a barbed commentary.

Lines 13–16

This stanza brings the absurdity of naming apocalyptic scenarios and Tate's poem itself to a crescendo. The term "first strike" refers to a strategy of preemptive nuclear aggression, a chillingly serious option contemplated by the Pentagon during the Cold War. By reserving this for the poem's climax, Tate underscores not only its ludicrousness but the folly inherent in orchestrating nuclear conflict. The code resembles song lyrics, further emphasizing the crumbling logic connecting the code to its dire consequence.

Lines 17–20

In this concluding stanza, the absence of a code paradoxically invites interpretation, just as poetry often does. The "madman" could symbolize any tyrant with nuclear ambitions or even a Pentagon strategist lost in delusions of heroism. Popular culture overflows with such characters. By referring to "one of those babies" with "it," Tate expresses disdain for those who dehumanize others into mere statistics in a war simulation. These madmen "get bigger" as their mania swells when provoked by adversaries. Here, "getting bigger" metaphorically suggests escalating outrageousness and self-justification. The poem concludes on a somber note of impending doom, leaving a lingering chill.