Plausible Deniability
first draft of a new poem
Plausible Deniability
In hindsight everything
looks like prophecy
The popcorn scent of
your singed hair
The percussion in the
song you listened to
How it sounded like
a wooden spider
walking toward you
And the train, yes the
train and the way
it moaned, that dreadful
zombie noise
Looking back it looks
like you saw it coming
But did you, really?
Even if some
god-borne animal
instinct buried in your
guts did sense it
You’d rather deny it
Say all those crimson
flags were Lung ta
not augury
Because you know
people only cling to
being right when they
have nothing else left
And the most
godforsaken phrase
in the English
language is
I told you so