What I, not so secretly, want to do is say I told you so,
Especially after those decades of hearing,
You’’re crazy, that never happened, that’s not true,
That’s not how it was, your memory is wrong,
Now I see documents, authority, the authority
You said you didn’t care about, who cares
What those books, or papers, or forms say, they
Are wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong.
Well, maybe everything that was ever printed
Is crazy or mistaken or wrong or couldn’t
Have happened, especially not in any of those
Ways that are written down by idiots
Who didn’t know any better because who are
They to question the words of a hero?
But now, seeing names and dates and places
And times in well remembered cursives
Of George and Helena, for their golden boy James,
declaring on penalty of perjury their reality,
We the undersigned do solemnly swear this minor
child of ours into the protective care
Of the United States Marine Corps where he
will become a man of god and honour,
but who, despite each promise wanted
his momemt in the tropical sun,
which wish came true as he spent the entire
duration achieving a Hawai’ian tan.
A calm, like a warm south Pacific wave rolls
Over me without the fog of battles past.
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