Blowback

This is a poem intended to wake people up and help them realize that fighting begets fighting, and that war is unacceptable. The only solution is to stop fighting, first.

I don't know where the bombs come from.
Or I do, but I don't know why.
Someone, somewhere, decided
that it's okay for me to die.

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How much does it cost to wash your hands?

As much as I appreciate the concern for the public to maintain cleanliness, seeing printouts and plaques like this just makes me shudder - and it should do that to you, too. In the same way that we don't think about how many plastic bottles the world goes through every time we crack open a new Evian, we don't consider how much society pays for little (oft-ignored!) messages like this.

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