Arlene Corwin Poetry

       What the Hell!

Murder & torture & sexual crimes;
Eyes bound, hands bound, begrimed
Entire body parts.
They swell.
What the hell!

Propaganda from the start.
Accusations whole or part
Based on lies,
The broken ties
With world outside.

Millions, zillions on the run,
Buildings blown to bits for fun.
‘Retreat* means leaving mines behind
To keep the killing going,
Mass graves growing.

Autopsies will prove it all,
Land of the attackers fall –
At least the leader.
After all, dictators can’t go on forever.
Even they get old or cancer.
All things end.
It’s kind of sad when you ain’t got a friend.
Oh, well,
And what the hell!
What The Hell 4.12.2022 War Book; Our Culture, Our Times II; Arlene Nover Corwin