Tag Archives: refugees

Not all of us are good at sums.

Math seems an unknown language

But, Here’s a rule of thumb

we all can glean,

“Evil adds up”

ignored if not unseen

by passersby who briefly notice

the drunk huddled with his rum

in the doorway, 

below the underpass

as they scurry by.

Integers of one

are not the same one as I,

we tell ourselves.

That one is different

than the one who is I.

Integers add up 

in natural disasters.

Tornados, hurricanes

fires and floods

multiply the integers

until the numbers draw the light

of media to their plight,

for awhile.

The numbers are reduced

by such attention.

When media lights go off

we passersby forget the

need to finish the subtraction.

Not a single drunk,

but entire blocks of numbers

are left in evil’s hold,

seeking shelter and warm beds,

a drink of water, a loaf of bread.

Crime lords and government

corruption and economic destruction

multiply exponentially the evil done

to entire communities

forced to flee to safety as refugees.

Evil adds up until its mass

is beyond measure

as we passersby seek our pleasure.

A father and daughter on a park bench

in Merry Old England after touching 

the handle as they closed their door,

poisoned by secret police abroad,

sent from Putin and his minions

whose minions are legion,

fallen angels from The Cold War,

who explore every nation

with a single message,

“You cannot hide from evil.”

There is no place to run

as evil has been left to grow,

to multiply beyond every border

of the New World Order.

The people of Ukraine know this well,

after years of dividing  their nation 

from the hell they struggle to quell.

They are not mere passersby

to the evil driving tanks in their streets,

sending missiles into buildings

where children dwell.

Each piece of war equipment tallied

and accounted for. 

Numbers measured on both sides

of the equation of war.

The only story that adds up

is that evil has multiplied 

to drive the suffering

to basements and train stations below

the streets of an entire nation.

Ukrainians do not clutch a bottle of rum.

They clutch one another,

measuring the possibility

of survival upon evil’s arrival

on their own doorsteps.

They seek a drink, a loaf of bread,

the warming comfort of sleep 

in their own bed.

Lesson learned that evil adds up.

Passersby add to that equation.

Passersby who drop coins in a cup

and tell themselves they do good.