Villains By Roses & Leeches


By Seth Trochtenberg

You have taken interest,

a voyeuristic study,

the subject of others’ lives and loves,

and have been roused in emptiness,

a hero’s tale and such the expert,

the same as leeches once were to the dying.

What is another word but a

syllable or two, plus an idea and meaning,

and you would chant a series and

call it sensible, even sensitive,

cherish the thoughts, comradery?

I offer you rosebuds and thorns,

and guide your ornate hands to vicious stems—

are you surprised? Of course not,

we know who I am after all,

who we’ve decided I would be.

You think you know better, and see

clearer than the rest, but we both realize

how blinding my light can shine,

the pain it can bring. Danger, danger.

O to be so dastardly.

I can pretend with the best,

and have my whole life, do you think

you know the truth now?

When does a liar choose to become honest,

and when do you choose to believe the change?

Born of it, I am the filth you despise, and

you fear how beautiful the grime

has weathered me. I would too.

I’d offer garbage, crushing garbage from all

ends, and call it my home, a house, so you

think you know where I live?

You’d break at the front door, so move along