Liz’s Poetry Series: American Horror Story
I wrote this cheery post about dystopian narratives late last year, mentioning specifically The Walking Dead, House of Cards and Sons of Anarchy.
Over the last few weeks I’ve been binge-watching the first two seasons of American Horror Story. I finished season 2 last night, and holy hell, it’s a web of themes pushing all my buttons.
In the spirit of tv series I find compelling and endearing and relevant I offer a poem. Enjoy.
6 Feet Under stole my heart
Nate, David, Claire
my cherished Sunday ritual
the first to get me snared
Battlestar was sci-fi fun
Cylons planted like sleeper cells
but I didn’t weep when it was done
I didn’t know the deeper hells
watch David morph to Dexter
his dark passenger kills for good
then Breaking Bad’s transformation
of Walter White to Heisenberg
they want to let us peek and gawk
House of Cards not just a show
it’s time to ask, if the dead can walk
how deep does this Horror go?
goodbye Ruth Fisher, Nate is gone
now you spread black wings of death
horror lurks in home, asylum
where Cromwell’s a Nazi scientist
America hides its paperclips
in pockets made of human skin
you got to be a True Detective
to spot their plot before they win