Hostages

Many train to be a hostage,

That is, an ambassador,

In foreign lands that are so different,

Far from our suburban door.

Presidents, one weak and humble,

One more arrogant, a boor,

Had to retrieve the hostages,

Caught suddenly in civil war.

Try and try, the diplomat,

Achieving nothing, getting nix,

And all the while, his people, watching,

All the while, the clock, it ticks.

So an election comes and goes,

A foreign land’s hand on the scale.

At last, the time for talking goes,

And savage, rigid strength prevails.

And when, at last, the hostage freed,

The land slapped back, knocked down to size,

Then, speeches full of Christian screed,

Our bombs and guns, romanticized,

Then, years of new prosperity,

A shining city on a hill,

And yuppies spending lavishly

While welfare queens were given nil.

Too soon, we find ourselves again

Opposed to this ephemera

That through some fluke has lasted, and

Still shouts Death to America.

And now we think the time has come

To free some hostages again,

To brandish strength, to bear our arms,

At last, this harsh regime must end.

The hostages (not ours but theirs)

Mere victims to their country’s choice,

Want nothing more than to be freed

Of this regime, to have a voice

And not be muffled by these men

In robes so strange, by God obsessed.

They’re glad to suffer any harm

To feel one-tenth our happiness. 

Or so we think, and so we say.

What land kills protestors, unarmed?

Superior in every way,

Our land leaves molesters unharmed.

Now will Great Satan strike this land,

All mankind’s cradle, make it Hell,

And summon forth a new Crusade,

Of Muslim versus Infidel.

And when that does not do the trick

(We find ourselves in quite a bind)

We threaten Armageddon next,

With Death and Famine, warrish crimes,

And draw a red line in the sand:

Tonight at eight, all Hell breaks loose.

A man of bluster holds the reins.

A hoodless hangman preps the noose.

What new Diplomacy our nation

Calls its own, so strong, so brave:

Kneel, or face eradication.

Once great men roll in their graves.

For travels to other lands, read Future Lands, Green Land, and Hexagons.