This poems was written after the 2011 disasters in northeastern Japan. The title comes from the fact that commentators on the Japanese economy sometimes compare Japan to the Galapagos, the isolated group of Ecuadorian islands where developments frequently veer off in their own unique directions, different from those of the rest of the world. This poem also comments on serious issues—the ongoing anxiety about the Japanese economy during the ongoing nuclear crisis at Fukushima, concern about the extremely low national birthrate, and even the lack of individuality of Japanese youth. In referring to the low national birth rate, Arai jokes that Japan does not have much “fusion” of sperm and ova; instead what the Japanese population has is mostly “fission”—the breaking apart of radioactive isotopes in the Fukushima meltdown. In this work, Arai pokes fun at the discriminatory idea, circulated in the popular media and on blogs, that young people from the polluted areas ought to consider using condoms rather than having unprotected sex for fear that radiation might have had long-term, unpredictable effects on them and their progeny. In commenting on this poem, Arai has mentioned that she wanted to show that the tendency in Japan to put economics first led not only to the nuclear accident; it also has brought people to a point where they feel compelled to limit their own freedoms and joy. In the middle of the poem, Arai lines up a number of words that all end with the syllable bō. As she watched the press coverage of the Fukushima meltdown, she was surprised that so many of the items filling the news ended with the same sound.