Socialist Sonnet No. 64

Inflation

 

There’s never a shortage of shells it seems,

While guns are always generously fed.

Bellicose ambition discounts the dead

As politicians pursue personal dreams.

The latest offensive offensive is launched

And no price considered to be too high,

For it’ll have to be paid by those who die:

The letting of fresh blood cannot be staunched.

Consider all the energy it takes

For gunners to keep a city in range,

Each salvo is firing up climate change,

While inflation is being measured in wakes.

Whoever profits, whatever is lost,

It’s workers and children that bear the cost.

 

D. A.