day THREE HUNDRED and ELEVEN

I Miss the Cold War

I miss the Cold War:

cloak and dagger; spies; secret codes;

shorelines bristling with nukes;

Mutual Assured Destruction — MAD! —

how cheerful that now sounds!

I miss the enemy:

that broad-faced mass of men with sickles

and women with brooms; black-haired

multitudes in red Mao jackets;

Young Pioneers; mustachioed dictators;

reds; pinko commie sympathizers —

how I miss the old, predictable adversary!

I miss the Red Phone, the Black Box,

the Button, the Domino Theory, bomb shelters,

the constant threat of nuclear strike.

How safe, how comfortable, that ungainly

teeter-totter seems from the darkness

of this new and lonely perch.

I miss being one of the good guys,

miss knowing we were right.

--Tamara Madison