24 Dec 2016 – Sonnet
(on restarting the arms race)

What’s that you smell when human hearts are dredged
as nuke-armed children play at tit-for-tat?
We’ve gone too far, we’re sailing off the edge!
You prayed the Earth was round? In fact it’s flat!
The crouching wolf of souls waits (jaws spread wide)
to eat a world whose hubris marks it doom.
Men sacrificing children to their pride,
imaging that mushroom clouds will bloom
in other people’s gardens, not their own,
but they’re deceived, and pride is always blind
until, of course, the dove of peace has flown,
replaced by birds of carrion who’ll dine
on cities not one righteous soul shall grieve.
“God’s judgment won’t fall here?” Don’t be naive!