Fitting For The End-Times Ball
© 2013 Jeffrey E. McCaskill. All Rights Reserved.
She learned before the age of nine
There was no time left for childhood
Not with the Russians reinventing themselves
And the North Koreans figuring out the Bomb.
Instead, she seized upon those moments of joy
That sometimes came while relaxing between chores
But every day, things got more serious,
And the Bible studies grew more ominous.
So, one night, after curfew, she awakened her brother,
And beckoned him to join her in the Protective Clothing Locker
Where, quiet as thieves, they donned doomsday suits
And slung on their stifling gas masks.
They lost themselves, and danced with glee
Fogging up their face shields with muffled laughter
Until she was struck with the realization
That she’d never have a boyfriend or get to attend prom.
Breathless, sweaty, she winced hard to hold back the tears,
Imagining her suit a lovely evening gown, and the mask a gleaming gold tiara
In time, she even managed a faint smile,
Noting that the air inside didn’t smell like rubber anymore.
She learned before the age of nine
There was no time left for childhood
Not with the Russians reinventing themselves
And the North Koreans figuring out the Bomb.
Instead, she seized upon those moments of joy
That sometimes came while relaxing between chores
But every day, things got more serious,
And the Bible studies grew more ominous.
So, one night, after curfew, she awakened her brother,
And beckoned him to join her in the Protective Clothing Locker
Where, quiet as thieves, they donned doomsday suits
And slung on their stifling gas masks.
They lost themselves, and danced with glee
Fogging up their face shields with muffled laughter
Until she was struck with the realization
That she’d never have a boyfriend or get to attend prom.
Breathless, sweaty, she winced hard to hold back the tears,
Imagining her suit a lovely evening gown, and the mask a gleaming gold tiara
In time, she even managed a faint smile,
Noting that the air inside didn’t smell like rubber anymore.
