Arms reach out to us from
other continents and our own.
Would we not be so
preoccupied by an arms race
that we might embrace these
children of different races with
love? I see faces laced with tears,
fraught with fears;  I cannot
countenance the human hate
that abets, not abates, this terror.
Is it simply human error that we
are more concerned with pork-
belly futures than the future of
children with inflated bellies in
distant, and not-so-distant, places?
Or do we mean to be mean? It
disgusts me that this misery
flourishes. We nourish our inflated
sense of self-importance;  and we
export what is of no import.

Copyright 2019 Tod Howard Hawks