David Chadwick

A poem for June

 

 

 

Red lines and rat lines

 

Today I read

Of red lines in the sand

And rat lines across the sand

Smuggling in the sarin gas

Through the back door

Erdoğan’s men

It said

Erdoğan’s men were involved

 

I can believe it

There is another world, a different dimension

Not a world of shadows; it has no creeping after dark

It is a bright, clear world

But it operates on a different plane

Where words don’t mean the same thing

Where results are the currency

Where actions carry no moral bias

Where the end justifies …