Red lights! Red Lights!
The lights have always been on red
but little stops the mountain of the dead.
The three-road intersection is a shambles, yet
cars pile up each second, smashing from behind;
and now we see that every driver's blind.
It doesn't matter which road, make of cars;
crosses, crescents, coloured bars, the stars.
This is a cold war but US drones are hot
for every designated target, guilty or not;
and since the enemy are everywhere,
in Hebrew, guns and planes say, "We don't care!"
And IS is nought - but thuggery and spite,
the worst misogyny, schismophobia, a blight!
And ra ra ras-Putin's convoys
are full of hidden guns, transparent ploys.
The three-road intersection is a shambles, yet:-
Red lights! Red lights!
The lights have always been on red;
but little stops the mountain of the dead.
..
YOU ARE READING
Keep The Home Fires Burning
PoetryA poetry Collection. Now Lunk has taken to his bed, swearing not to write one more word about C, and muttering 'bloody garden', it behoves (Love that word, don't you?) me (and Anima) to fill out his shoes, with soil and flower seed. So we will be 'e...
