Maggie Mixer (16)
Agent Peggy Carter
May 8th, 1945 - VE Day London
Stolen champagne showers
People flood the streets, cries of Victory!
Fireworks and church bells ring
The red, white, and black flag burns
A young woman in British olive and brass stands far below
Bends over maps she’s been studying for five years
Boots thunder overhead
Muffled explosions and funeral bells echo in ironwork bone and rubble
The red, white, and blue flag burns
A bunker unchanged
Bends over maps, ghosts at her shoulders,
Handsome, hollow young men with clinking medals
Her brothers not by blood, but by that of others spilt on smudged fields
Whispering strategy and warnings
A bunker unchanged
Lipstick the color of enemy lines stains cold burnt coffee
Peggy’s warpaint, girl with soft hands laughed
Joked, but
Darling, you have no idea
A shade of red carried through interrogations and foxholes
Rattling against grenade pins
Lamplight cuts harsh shadows
No memory of sleeping easy, home cooked meals:
Unimportant
Roaming countryside on stubby legs?
Here those things turn bitter and grey
Crumble like buildings above
(Better leave them undisturbed, yes
Let the dust settle thick and soft and maybe,
Maybe they remain when Earth stops spinning)
Atlas carries the world from below
Better down here, really
Gunbarrel calluses have no place at secretary desks
Bloodstained boots scuff hostile against stovetops
Without maps, only has - whispers, screams, thrum of marching
Heaven left us behind a long time ago
Today: Celebrate the end of the war-to-end-all-wars
She stands below, planning the next
Bends over maps old and new for five years
A decade
A quarter of a century
Waging war all her life - Unchanged
Ghosts hover, hundreds of thousands
Maggie Mixer is 16 years old and enjoys reading, writing, and skiing.
Agent Peggy Carter
May 8th, 1945 - VE Day London
Stolen champagne showers
People flood the streets, cries of Victory!
Fireworks and church bells ring
The red, white, and black flag burns
A young woman in British olive and brass stands far below
Bends over maps she’s been studying for five years
Boots thunder overhead
Muffled explosions and funeral bells echo in ironwork bone and rubble
The red, white, and blue flag burns
A bunker unchanged
Bends over maps, ghosts at her shoulders,
Handsome, hollow young men with clinking medals
Her brothers not by blood, but by that of others spilt on smudged fields
Whispering strategy and warnings
A bunker unchanged
Lipstick the color of enemy lines stains cold burnt coffee
Peggy’s warpaint, girl with soft hands laughed
Joked, but
Darling, you have no idea
A shade of red carried through interrogations and foxholes
Rattling against grenade pins
Lamplight cuts harsh shadows
No memory of sleeping easy, home cooked meals:
Unimportant
Roaming countryside on stubby legs?
Here those things turn bitter and grey
Crumble like buildings above
(Better leave them undisturbed, yes
Let the dust settle thick and soft and maybe,
Maybe they remain when Earth stops spinning)
Atlas carries the world from below
Better down here, really
Gunbarrel calluses have no place at secretary desks
Bloodstained boots scuff hostile against stovetops
Without maps, only has - whispers, screams, thrum of marching
Heaven left us behind a long time ago
Today: Celebrate the end of the war-to-end-all-wars
She stands below, planning the next
Bends over maps old and new for five years
A decade
A quarter of a century
Waging war all her life - Unchanged
Ghosts hover, hundreds of thousands
Maggie Mixer is 16 years old and enjoys reading, writing, and skiing.