House Hunting in Accra

We have the wherewithal to get away from this,
From what anybody with eyes can see coming:
The next world war, which our leaders will
Bring us, and this one won't only be fought far
Away.  What we have will be ruined, if we can
Survive, and who knows who'll remain or arrive
To abuse us, our own fine fascists or hordes
Of Chinese?  An era is ending, and our awful
Tribe, obnoxious as ever, but aging and shrinking,
Is doomed to be pushed from its place at the top
Of the foul human heap.  We should clamber
Down now, before we are pushed, and retreat
To the south and a measure of safety.  Rockets
Won't rain down on lands the combatants write
Off as too useless to bother to waste, so, once
Everything here in the north is destroyed, we
Can watch as our new neighbors thrive.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2022-04-20 at 17:34

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MetaPoetics The PoetBay support member heart!
A few days ago, I had the same thought. Perhaps we'd all be safe up in the mountains, near the foothills of Everest, when all hell breaks loose. Your house haunting poem reminded me of that bizarre thought, as you chillingly portray the grim reality of our generation.