“I
have a list!”
A
man from the shadows of government said,
“Of
all known Commies out there!”
Who
was on the list?
People
wondered.
People
speculated.
They
turned their neighbors in.
They
turned friends in.
They
turned coworkers in.
Paranoia
was the word
That
McCarthy brought.
Out
of the crucible of American politics
Came
witch hunts and conspiracies
To
overthrow the government.
As
the fifties rolled on and the blistering cold kept persisting.
War
in Korea failed and the split remained.
According
to the Beaver and the Cleavers
The
country was full of upright citizens.
Full
of hat-wearing dads and stay-at-home moms
Who
made apple pie.
Of
little boys who played baseball
Eating
that pie at the table after saying grace.
Conformity
and structure
Made
life seem pleasant
In
the suburban household.
Men
who went to an idyllic office job
Doing
who knows what.
Kids
only complained about school with their bully problems.
“See
Billy?” said the man on the film reel,
“Isn’t
it great”
“To
be in such an individualistic society?”
“Not
like those Commies.”
“Right
Dad?”
But
that wasn’t the real fifties
Was
it?
There
was fear.
Nuclear
tests caused radioactive havoc in lands far away.
“We
must perfect the killing machine”, they said.
“Or
else they will get us.”
Keep
working.
Keep
sleeping.
“Or
else they will get us”
Presidents
passed.
Father
knows best
Duck
and cover.
Build
your bomb shelters.
Stock
them with freeze-dried foods.
Hope
for the best because they are out
there and they will get us.
