Axis & Allies - damowords

A Game of Ten‐Pin
It seems the Warsaw Pact has drawn the lines,
America looks underneath her bed,
Searching for proof of Moscowʹs dark designs,
From now on anyone could be a ʹRed;ʹ
Full of belief
Witchfinders bind the air,
Negrodom breathes relief, hatred channels elsewhere.
ʺHave fun!ʺ call’d Maggie Dillinger
To her love & his new pal,
The Solokov from Croatia
Portʹring down the hospital,
The boys joined their happy driver,
The chubby‐cheekʹd Big Al…
Together they went roaring off to bowl,
The coins are tossʹd, the team sheet pins the wall…
All was ultra‐jingoism,
They shouted Ivanʹs name,
Communism, Lib’ralism
Perhaps theyʹre just the same,
They bannʹd him from the bowling club before heʹd playʹd a
game.
Jerkwater
1959
Capturing Eichmann
The modern world from violent spasms born,
Of which one has scarr’d man perhaps the most,
Forever by a single word was known,
The horror which surrounds the ʹHolocaust;’
Deckʹd with virtue
Of good Sir Galahad
To Argentina flew a crew of young Mossad.
They found him living out his life
Gutterʹd below his station,
A nothing job, a plain, old wife,
Meaningless & suburban...
In quiet street, sharp as a knife,
Men pounced upon Eichmann...
Without resorting to hostility
They drew from him his true identity.
Nervously shaking, coffee spilt
Upon the hotel bed,
Tho’ weighʹd with guilt voice would not wilt
When naked truths were said...
But even he could not explain why so many were dead.
Buenos Aires
1960