by Beth Woodcome
Lean in like babies. Lean in like paranoids. Our eyes go to the left,
and quickly to the right. Can you hear it? Can you tell me when it’ll happen?
The sound of someone plotting. A deep breath.
All those fatigues. Those boys.
Let me tell you something. Come closer so my lips. So my lips.
Last I checked you should run.
0 thoughts on “War”
I like this a lot. It feels like something that was originally much longer, then pared down into its current form. I wonder about “so my lips.” but anyway, nice job.
I echo those comments. i really enjoyed this one, minus the whole “so my lips” thing. Does she mean “sew my lips” or something.
Yeah, I thought the same thing about the 2nd, “So my lips.”, but I figured it was a bit of an echo, a pause, a transition into the serious, cynical last line.
“Come closer so my lips.So my lips.” ..is a last gasp of the subject-voice/narrator before they die from outcome of war pleading directly to reader [you] so they can receive a warning. Beginning of poem instructs readers to “Lean in like babies. Lean in like paranoids.” So I would imagine this poem chronicles the last moment of an unfortunate caught up in human conflagration.
It’s sort of like when Private Ryan leans over Captain Hanks who says “Earn this…”. I maybe would have punctuated/spliced it different say like: “Come closer so my lips..so my lips…can tell you..” That’s what i’d bet.
yeah, that was pretty apparent. the way its written though is striking.