Pause for poetry:
Michael Hawkes /7

The Way of the World

A poem by Michael Hawkes

It took a surreptitious little germ,
Unheard, unseen, unsensed, until of late,
Insinuating like a tape worm
To make a mockery of armed defense.

Out of the reach of the stealthiest bombers,
Impervious to the submarine;
Delivery systems foisted on us
We clearly see now as absurd,
Or worse than that, obscene!

Trillions spent on war machinery,
Inveigled by warlords with evil chicanery,
Now stacked like bullion in armories,
Or priapic in their readiness,

Buried deep in psycho silos,
Forever aimed at imagined foes,
Completely useless, can’t defend us,
But representing psychic woes.

What use are bombs and guns and bullets?
For killing crowds they’re all passe,
Now there’s a virus in our gullets
Sweeping hordes of us away?

Might we not attempt rebirth
By re-aligning evil ways,
By seeing things for their true worth
Before we reach the end of days?

23\03\20 Hawkes

Feature image: Mike LaChance via
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Michael Hawkes -

Michael Hawkes is an 80-year-old survivor of all the world’s wars. He learned (and loved to rhyme) by torturing the hymns he had to sing at school. A retired West Coast fisherman living in Montreal since 2013, he is an unschooled Grandpa Moses writing an average of five poems every week.

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