Bridie Final Draft

28 Jan

I Told You So

Six weeks into invasion, he was shot.
I told you so chimed
among rig burn and crash.

He ogled British war films
Saw hero was a right
way to go.                         What else
was there                          For him
no other vehicle.

You clutched his babies.
Before he left, I begged
Don’t be                                   a part.
Cogs heaved.                            For us,
he believed and died.

You wished for foreign
ships swallowed by nukes,
I slammed righteous

points at you. Cracked pipelines,
spilled thick goops of I told you so,
melted residue                             all over
the empty in your wounds.         For you
to feel the slick of oil

tacking feathers in your wings,
left drowning in chop,
my concentrated lighthouse lamp
singeing away.

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