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WARGAMES (The Armageddon Rap!)

Poem by Gary Lewis

Wednesday afternoon on a summer's day,
and little Tommy's out to play.
Scattered on two grassy banks
are Tommy's soldiers, planes, and tanks.

Later Russia, Condition Green.
An ominous blip on a radar screen.
The general's palms start to sweat
Shouts: "Get me the leader of the Soviet!"

Words are passed, procedures rushed,
Keys are turned and buttons pushed.
Bay doors are opened to reveal the sky
and into the air the missiles fly.

Soon Big Bad NATO follows suit
as from the tubes the warheads shoot.
Now seconds before his planet dies
Tommy sees the rockets scorch the skies.

Now playing out after dusk
is little Tommy: a blackened husk.
For what was once a game for boys
is now played by man with Satan's toys!

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Copyright The Bentilean, 1990, 1999
Gary Lewis was one of the writers I discovered by door knocking, and he became a regular contributor to the mag -- eventually getting his mother, Ann, to write for us too!

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