Blitzkrieg

241116-poetry-society-st-gi


A true story

Her guarantee – they’ll die
under nuclear bombs:
One burst over Guildford,
God knows why so random,

perhaps the commuter line,
perhaps the Tory votes;
so she is planning,
to cut her first-born’s throat.

A Cuban missile crisis
unfolded across the news,
world war fear door-stepped,
radiates, now cold truth.

She’d survived Doodlebugs,
as tiles slipped, glass was blown,
but could it happen again?
A final atomic bomb:

She would lay him in a small bed,
a whisky swig before slicing,
make that planned throat-cut line,
as the TV played the siren.


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