Monday, January 15, 2018

While golfing . . .

Yesterday an alert went out:
BALLISTIC MISSILE THREAT INBOUND
SEEK IMMEDIATE SHELTER.
THIS IS NOT A DRILL
A mother called her son in Texas—
Stay on the line until . . .
A father held his son—
Don’t worry, while the whole time
He was shitting his pants
He held him so tight, sobbing
A group of friends strolled down to the beach—
If this is it, we’ll go together
A young girl walked away from her job,
The one she hated, she thought about calling home
A couple stayed in bed, let’s stay here forever, they said
People ran to their bathrooms and hid in the tub
A mom lowered her children into the sewer,
First lifting the heavy manhole cover
A man went into a church to pray
But no words came, only unholy utterances
The teenage boy wished he had been more bold
The teenage girl had no regrets, she smiled at everyone
He didn’t know what to do
She knew one thing that had to be done

Only after—
There was no all-clear—
More of a general resignation, a tweet
Did the realization dawn:
We are still here.

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