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Homecoming Dance MAG
the theme is “hippies,” which is
of course a great irony, as the
chaperons (who patrol the room
like pale shadows) will pounce on
any kid with drugs or free love
or hope for peace. the statue of
the mascot is an effigy costumed
in tie-dye and bell bottoms. where
are you, flower children? the revelers
pose for pictures in front of posters
slathered with anti-war slogans. what
was once revolutionary has aged into
senile decoration. silly poses are struck
next to the words that dripped from
your lips as the policeman swung his
club. it’s rich, it’s all too rich. paper
peace signs bob on strings above the
lunchroom door, jittery. inside is a cavern,
pulsating with popularity, braggadocious
beats careening off the walls. the
dancers are lacquered and shiny,
without a hint of your grime. we are
your kin; birthed into tumult, mired in a
world of stoic bleakness. and yet …
followers of leary, progeny of ginsberg,
i cannot even see your echoes. and so
i stand stock-still in the very heart of
it, gazing up at a crisscross of fairy
lights amid this cacophony of gyrations,
and think of you. would you weep at
the spectacle? or did you see it in your
mind’s eye all along?
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This was inspired by a homecoming dance at my friend’s school I attended recently. Since I attended, I could not stop thinking about it and how to reconcile the hopes of the counterculture with what I saw around me.