Revisionist History and Time Machines (Rev 2.1)

[Todd]

Revision 2.2

People only tell you they’ll go back to kill Hitler. 
But his death isn't why elevators no longer 
skip the thirteenth floor. For Christ would never split the sky,
His brow unpierced forever, blood not falling like rain. 
This time, Claudette lingers like an unanswered question
outside the barn. Why kill a German artist? Each choice,
the chalk scratch on the dark board
of an unending horizon, only to be erased
like the child unbloated and undrowned in Crystal Lake.
Claudette kisses Barry as if she’s stealing the air
each time he breathes, her hands sticky-slick against his chest.
She pushes him down on a bed of dry pine needles,
as echoes of himself collapse into the first sound
they now share. Her back arches like the blade of an axe.

~~

Rev 1: CRNDLSM, Donald, Lizzie: I made some changes based on the comments. I tried to introduce the Friday 13th element earlier and made the attempt to reimagine this in 13 lines--just to see what it would look like. Thanks all! (It's a bit ironic to be revising this piece).
Rev 1.1: Achebe: I Addressed the "but that" in line 2.
Revision 2: for my self-hatred and Donald Q
Revision 2.1: Lizzie: Made some slight adjustments from her comments.
Revision 2.2: Made a minor change, not worth a bump.

Revision 2.1

People only tell you they’ll go back to kill Hitler. 

But his death isn't why elevators no longer 

skip the thirteenth floor. For Christ would never split the sky,

His brow unpierced forever, blood not falling like rain. 

This time, Claudette lingers like an unanswered question

outside the barn. Why kill a German artist? Each choice,

the chalk scratch on a dark board, only to be erased

like the child unbloated and undrowned in Crystal Lake.

Claudette kisses Barry as if she’s stealing the air

each time he breathes, her hands sticky-slick against his chest.

She pushes him down on a bed of dry pine needles,

as echoes of himself collapse into the first sound
they now share. Her back arches like the blade of an axe.

Revision 1.1

People only tell you they’ll go back to kill Hitler. 
But his death isn't why elevators no longer skip 
the thirteenth floor. For Christ would never split 
the horizon on that day. His blood 
not falling like rain. This time
Claudette ignores the barn. Why kill
a German artist? Memory
is chalk scratched on a dark board, only
to be wiped away like the child never drowned
in Crystal Lake. Claudette pushes
Barry down onto a bed of dry pine needles.
Her back arches like the blade 
of an axe.

~~

Revision

People only tell you they’ll go back to kill Hitler.
But that’s not why elevators no longer skip 
the thirteenth floor. For Christ no longer split
the horizon on that day. His blood
not falling like rain. This time
Claudette ignores the barn. Why kill
a German artist? Memory
is chalk scratched on a dark board, only
to be wiped away like the child never drowned
in Crystal Lake. Claudette pushes
Barry down onto a bed of dry pine needles.
Her back arches like the blade 
of an axe.

~~

Original

People only tell you they’ll go back
to kill Hitler, but that’s not why
elevators no longer skip 
the thirteenth floor. Christ
no longer split the horizon
on that day. The blood no longer
falling from His face like rain.
Why kill a German artist
with an above average appreciation
of the human form? Memory
is chalk scratched on a dark board, only
to be wiped away—a side effect,
like the child not drowned
in Crystal Lake.

Barry and Claudette lie on a bed
of dry pine needles.
Her back arches like the blade
of an axe.