WAKA is 'the music of the Primes'.

On a Tuesday morning.

A dozen conscription officers.

Descended on Odesa’s.

Main train station.

 

 

Led by a seasoned.

Veteran sailor.

And his younge.

More muscular counterpart.

 

They paced the forecourt.

Stopping men of serving age.

To check they were registered.

On the database.

 

But the well-mannered pair.

Had a tough time.

Finding eligible men.

Where are eligible men?

 

Most were either.

Too young or.

Had received.

Some sort of exemption.

 

After a couple of hours.

The veteran sailor conceded.

That it was highly possible.

Men were hiding from them.

 

“Some people run away from us.

This happens quite often.

Others react.

Quite aggressively.”

 

I don’t think these people.

Have been brought up well.”

Many of ‘elves’ soldiers are.

Dead, injured or exhausted.

 

At the enlistment centre.

Around the corner.

An optimistic note taped.

To the door.

 

Notified would-be-recruits.

That those who had.

Come voluntarily could.

Skip the queues.

 

 

On a Tuesday morning.

A dozen conscription officers.

Descended on Odesa’s.

Main train station.

 

 

But there were no queues.

A lone man sat.

Waiting to be seen.

A lone man sat.

 

He told you.

He had been “kidnapped”.

That morning and.

Brought against his will.

 

“The officers encircled me.

So I couldn’t run.”

He stuttered in shock.

“I’m devastated.”

 

 

On a Tuesday morning.

A dozen conscription officers.

Descended on Odesa’s.

Main train station.

 

 

One of the officers.

At the centre conceded that.

There were barely any.

Willing volunteers these days.

 

The officer fought in some of.

The fiercest battles along.

The eastern front line.

In the Donbas.

 

Before being struck.

In the head, chest.

And legs by.

Artillery shrapnel.

 

He was unable.

To mask his contempt.

For those.

Who are hiding.

 

“How can I say?

This without swearing?”

He asked out loud.

“I don’t consider them men.”

 

“What are they waiting for?

If we run out of men.

The enemy will.

Come to their homes.”

 

“Rape their women.

And kill their children.”

He has seen the awful evidence.

First-hand.

 

 

On a Tuesday morning.

A dozen conscription officers.

Descended on Odesa’s.

Main train station.

 

 

*Because I read “Conscription squads send Ukrainian men into hiding” by Jean Mackenzie on 17 Jun 2024, and also “Why are Ukrainians calling Russians ‘orcs’?” by James FitzGerald on 30 Apr 2022, on the BBC news.
So, I wrote this poem, as a story of Anatoliy and Oleksiy, and a story of Vlad.
Please read the original story on the BBC news:

Ukraine war: Conscription squads send Ukrainian men into hiding (bbc.com)