Hostages

We are all the Iran hostages now
In college a classmate’s father was one
We wore ribbons on our gowns at graduation
In solidarity with her sad face
Honestly we weren’t really paying attention
But when I woke today it was clear
Vivid dreams of dark halls
Windowless dim red-lit rooms
I followed a young soccer player
A beautiful girl barely an adult
Down a dingy hall with carpeted floor
Striding ahead of me backpack and
Ponytail and bare feet rushing to a plane
“The tan is gone from your feet.” I said
“Just two days ago they were deep brown”
She glanced dismissively in denial
Somehow in her tan’s disappearance I knew
Our lives have reset to a new normal
With alien ships hovering overhead
The anxious news a streaming obsession
A lifeline offering little hope
Chaos surrounds the bloviator
Like Pigpen’s dusty cloud bubble
We watch his grandiosity with the sound off
Wondering how to escape

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