What shall we do next?
Invade a maternity hospital
And seize babies from their mothers
And then kill them for the camera one by one,
Their skulls swung against walls, perhaps?
Or worse, or better, an antenatal clinic,
Where we could tear the foetuses from their mothers' wombs,
Destroying life while it was still pure hope?
Or we could go with our bombs and threatening guns
Where lovers gather and look at each other
And throw acid in their faces, annihilating loveliness
And eyes that gazed with love,
And life whilst it was all languid anticipation?
Or if we could get the ultimate bomb,
The bomb big enough to make our point clearly,
We could unleash it so nothing was safe,
So that nothing was?
Or we could learn the lesson,
Before another mother keens,
That the only thing that justifies the end
Is the means.