Lies

Lies

Our favorite set, the operating room.
Our favorite plot, death by folly.

Poisoning by restaurant garnish.
Livers brined in bourbon and burst.

The killing argument.
The suicidal drive.

And Junior, the arsonist
who set him self on fire.

As if we defy natural causes,
predictable as gravity and night.

Claiming, instead, the flaming corpse,
the surgeon with his impotent scalpel.

The Atreus and Usher of Coal Town,
we lived and died by stories in that house.

— Angela Alaimo O’Donnell, author of Moving House

This poem is offered as part of our May theme: Heroes & Villains

T.S. Poetry

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