HI TEK WAR poem

 

CONTACT IS LOST

 

A dozen blips circle each other on a radar screen. All given a number and speed, some fade and wink out like some kid’s space invader game.

Now eight remain, all moving on the screen like fireflies in the night.

In the real world jet fighters claw each other from the sky to either live or to die.

As each plane flares in a missile blast the pilot dies –

that’s the way it goes in the air war.

Only people behind the radar screens see the lie for what it is.

They know the pilots feel the truth

as a missile hits them at Mach 4 with fifty pounds of explosive.

 

automationjet fightermissilepilotsky

◄ WAR, PEACE poem

DARK TOWER poem ►

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