published in A Geography of Poets, Edited by Edward Field
The Fall of the House of Usher
by Reed Whittemore
It was a big boxy wreck of a house
Owned by a classmate of mine named Rod Usher,
Who lived in the thing with his twin sister.
He was a louse and she was a souse.
While I was visiting them one wet summer, she died.
We buried her,
Or rather we stuck her in a back room for a bit, meaning to bury her
When the graveyard dried.
But the weather got wetter.
One night we were both waked by a twister,
Plus a screeching and howling outside that turned out to be sister
Up and dying again, making it hard for Rod to forget her.
He didn’t. He and she died in a heap, and I left quick,
Which was lucky since the house fell in right after,
Like a ton of brick.
