The Gumshoe
A murder scene:
Blood soaked corpse,
Yellow evidence tents,
A hardy gumshoe.
The evidence points in opposite directions,
Accusations bouncing off of tender chests.
Who did this?
He asks the empty room.
Answers fly like bullets,
He waves them off like gnats.
The walls will speak
When blood tells lies.
But who is our victim?
Is it me or is it you?
There’s too much blood to know for sure.
Whoever did this, she’s been torn to pieces.
The gumshoe fixed his eyes
On the dripping furniture,
Another fixture beleaguered with the truth.
Unburden yourself, he commands,
And the body of the murderer
Begins to pick up her pieces
Scattered around the room.
But who is our victim?
Is it me or is it you?
There’s too much blood to know for sure.
Dirty Bathwater Thoughts
My sister is crying in the trunk of my car.
I turn up the radio to tune her out
But she never leaves me.
Her sobs mingle with the music
I bob my head to it,
Like a sick musical soundtrack.
I linger in the dirty bathwater thoughts
For a while and soon, her voice is gone,
Mixed hopelessly with the rumble
And clanks of her infernal hearse.
A band will never play a funeral dirge for her,
But I’m giving her the best I can,
As I drown in the aria of her downfall.
About Katherine Orozco-Verderber
Katherine Orozco-Verderber is a South Texas playwright, poet, and novelist. Her works have been published all over the world. She spends her time running Zero Untitled Films/Productions alongside her husband, bringing theatre to every space possible, especially the places that were not meant to be theatrical.
A murder scene:
Blood soaked corpse,
Yellow evidence tents,
A hardy gumshoe.
The evidence points in opposite directions,
Accusations bouncing off of tender chests.
Who did this?
He asks the empty room.
Answers fly like bullets,
He waves them off like gnats.
The walls will speak
When blood tells lies.
But who is our victim?
Is it me or is it you?
There’s too much blood to know for sure.
Whoever did this, she’s been torn to pieces.
The gumshoe fixed his eyes
On the dripping furniture,
Another fixture beleaguered with the truth.
Unburden yourself, he commands,
And the body of the murderer
Begins to pick up her pieces
Scattered around the room.
But who is our victim?
Is it me or is it you?
There’s too much blood to know for sure.
Dirty Bathwater Thoughts
My sister is crying in the trunk of my car.
I turn up the radio to tune her out
But she never leaves me.
Her sobs mingle with the music
I bob my head to it,
Like a sick musical soundtrack.
I linger in the dirty bathwater thoughts
For a while and soon, her voice is gone,
Mixed hopelessly with the rumble
And clanks of her infernal hearse.
A band will never play a funeral dirge for her,
But I’m giving her the best I can,
As I drown in the aria of her downfall.
About Katherine Orozco-Verderber
Katherine Orozco-Verderber is a South Texas playwright, poet, and novelist. Her works have been published all over the world. She spends her time running Zero Untitled Films/Productions alongside her husband, bringing theatre to every space possible, especially the places that were not meant to be theatrical.