Kim’s failed dream

The fascists’ canon roared,

And Kim Philby saw

Their impact

On blocks of workers’ flats.

That sight confirmed his intent

To betray his class

To build a better way of life for all.

A century later,

History repeats 

Like a bad tune,

Playing over and over,

On a broken machine, 

As the inheritors of Kim’s failed dream

Bombard workers’ flats.

Who knows what will grow

From the ruins in Ukraine,

Flowers of hope?

Or poisonous thorns and spores

Of the virus that makes humans kill

Each other

Again and again and again?